KTNG DAENLEY. . 





LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Shelf./? 3 3 ***~. 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

/*- 




4fc 



KING DARNLEY," 



AN 



HISTORICAL TRAGEDY 



BY 

/ 

LORNE CAMPBELL. 




1895) xLl % 



Copyright, iSqs, 
By Lorne Campbell. 



I 5 3S-q£~ 



KING DARNLEY. 



CAST OF CHARACTERS. 



Elizabeth. Queen of England. 

Mary S'tuart, i^iueen of Scotland. 

Lord Darnley, "'King Darnley." cousin to Queens 
Mary and Elizabeth. 

Earl Moray, base brother to Mary Stuart, dis- 
guises as George Douglas and as Hepburn. 

George Douglas, half brother and counterfeit of 
Moray, who so much resembles Moray that they 
can scarce be known apart. 



Scottish Noblemen, Duke De Chastallan, Earls 
Argyle, Huntley, Bothwell, Morton and Caith- 
ness; Lords Lethington, Ruthven, Lindsay, Mel- 
ville and others. 

English Cocrtiers, Throckmorton, Sadler, 
Derry, Essex and Dudley. 

French and Spanish Ambassadors, Young 
Itentlemen, Maids, Officers, Officials and. 
Attendants. 



ACT I. 



Scene I. Court of Elizabeth. 

Enter Eliz. , Derry, Essex 
and Gentlemen. 
Eliz. This Queen of Scotland, dii she 
not in childhood 

Wear my arms, and now in years pre- 
eminent 

Responsible refuse to ratify 

The Berwick Treaty. She so fond of 
power 

Should wed the Pope, and with him 
seek the ruling 

Point, of Christendom. Am I not my 
father's 

Daughter? Daughter to mighty Henry 
Eighth 

Of England. Is she too my father's 
issue, 

Does she assume so much, if so, how 
shall 

She prove my father took the pilgrim- 
age. 

And so if — how comes her right acces- 
sion to 

My father's crown. 
Der. Bear up, bear up 

the spirit 

Of integrity, entice no cowards 

To wearing of 't, that thou art wronged 
and that 

In thy right, is most apparent. But 
mark 

The consequence, daws will them diet 
such carcasses 

As hold such misconceptions, be 

They traitorous English or of truant 
Scot. 
War. That they assume your 

arms, they but do as 



Malefactors, provoke the penalty. 
And there is not a steel in England 

here 
That would not penetrate in such a 

cause 

Marry be't, if such exist, the penalty. 
The test o't upon its house and families. 

Eliz. Her ambition is expressed. I 

have it from 
Most apt authority. Her brother Moray 
Tells, that he has heard her say 
That she shall rule my ruin and my 

realm. 

Essex. God forbid, and so shall 

we forbid, 
We will rise, rise to a man, we will fall 
Upon her savagely, resurrect the grave, 
Call spirits back from heaven. And 

there is not 
In Hell an English heart that would 

not hoot 
At her. 

[Lords applaud. 

Eliz. Well spoken for a boy, but not 
More wise. This matter must have 

thought, plain thought. 
Valor not; that valor oft times o'er 

looks 
Destruction. She is more formidable 

in 
Her unmarried state, than all the ene- 
mies 
Of Britain. How, if she should wed 

the heir 
Of Spain? She then might operate 

against us, 
Christendom. If in France she marry, 

France 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act I. 



Hath facility. Or should she spouse 

the Dane, 
Or the Norwegian, her power is there 
New-ominous and against us. We must 

resort 
To more ascertained means, than chival 

pomp, 
Poetic pride, to dare and to destruction; 
We must design! Seem as clustered 

fruit, 
Enticing in the sun,— but in the juice 
Of it be poison. Her power must be 

prevented, 
Her rise reversed— or our vain, idle 

boasts 
Will turn but to her praise; to do her 

homage. 
Dudley created Leicester as yesterday. 
You were made witness, departs this 

day to Scotland, 
To " woo, but not to wed," that sover- 
eign, 
And there so like to banished, shall 

remain 
Until such time 's her kingdom may 

be brought 
To insurrect against her. That hawk 

that with 
The pigeon lights (to make more cer- 
tain conquest 
Of his prey), creeps slowly and con- 
ceals 
His talons and his bill, until so close 
To her: she thinking him her mate, that 

he 
May bar her from escape, and tear the 

flesh 
From off her bones. How this will be 

accomplished, 
Leave to me; but if wits will fail; let 

war 
Be at the time of war. Barb then your 

steeds 
And I will ride at head of you. My 

Lord 
Of Leicester comes. 

Enter Lei. 

How fares my Lord 

of Dudley? 
Lei. Well, your majesty, for the most 

part, well. 
I hope to find you most exceeding well. 
Eliz. Well— not" being ill -ill not 

being well, 
I am in such condition. My Lord, 
We pray that some sweet reason may 

expostulate between 
You and your wiser course. 
We think to advise you into Scotland, 

there 
To spouse with my good sister, (the 

virtuous widow, 



Be it the truth, if not a maiden in 
Her youth). 

Lei. Sin 's as the racing steed, 

which when started, runs 
Head-long to the winning post. 'Tis 

strange, if in 
Her youth she were not good, that she 

should need 
In widow-hood. 

[Elizabeth rises from the throne 
and observes him in awe. 

Eliz. My Lord, I ask you here 

To manifest in presence of my peers 
Are you resigned to Scotland? Will 
you go? 
Lei. As hearts to body most 

inseparable, 
E'n so am I with thy allegiance func- 
tioned. 
Bid me to leap the precipice, and I 
Will execute 'Soon 's haste will bring 

me thither, 
Command me into Scotland, and to 

this, 
Even this, am I loyal. [Kneels. 

Eliz. All hail! my 

Lords. 
A king, my Lords, a king. We grant 

you leave. 
In so much I do offend your majesty, 
If 't please your highness so, we miss 

you for 
A breathing spell. 

[Exit Leicester in great 
embarrassmt nt. 
Derry, go pump water 
From the new dug well, and fetch it 

me. 
You comprehend? 
Der. Tour highness, per- 

fectly. * 

[Exit Der. after Lei. 
Eliz. Its fluid makes me thirst, 

I must make change, 
Straight way a change. 
A Gentleman. Of what well 

speaks jour highness? 
Eliz. The one if 

found you drown in it, damn you; 
Have your wits too gone courting? Go! 

Go! each 
Of you. Dismiss Darnley into Scot- 
land, 
So haste, make haste. 

[Exit lords. 
Eliz. . Unvenerable 

wretch, 
Have I not made him mighty — evil Lei- 
cester? 
I shall uu-make him now, and — create 
Anew, a lord of Head-less-tord. 



Act I.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



Enter Leicester and Derry 
at side of stm/i . 

Lei. I have 

Offended her, and fear her so, do go, 
But in, good faithful Derry, and make 

amends 
For me 
Derrif. Depend on it 

[Exit Lei. 
Eliz. What did Lei- 

cester say? 
Der. Extenuates, equivo- 

cates, talks nothing to the purpose, 
grows haughty, hints ambiguously, 
assumes majesty, and in such puppet 
way that I could scarce restrain my 
blood, that so besought me in the honor 
of my house to draw at him. 
Eliz. Go send him here. 
Der. As by my 

blade I shall 
Do anything your majesty requires. 

[Kneels and kisses his blade. 
Eliz. Oh! I would the devil had 
both thee 
And him, thou filth of sophistry, as he, 
Thou mire, thou scamp, thou miscre- 
ant. Oh! 
Thou poltroon dog, avaunt, avaunt! 
Curse him. 

[Exit Derry. 

Curse him; curse him the more than I 
did love him. 

Enter Lei. and kneels. 

Eliz. Ambitious king. Oh! 

I shall have thee crowned 
In hell. Thy head upon the tower. 

Though 
Thy heart be so adamant, as the jewel 
It contravalues. Yet will I wear 't 

'pon 
My finger a trinket of my pleasure, lest 

thou 
Resent me. 
Lei. As the God liveth I love 

You. There is 
No virtue in the hearts of children 

else 

Eliz. [Striking him.] Blaspheming 

dog, a curse upon your wiles; 
Ye imps as men, who wed not us, but 

woo us 
For the devil. Ye prating, ambling, 

jigging knaves. 
Oh! It there be hell of fire, 'tis 
For you, villains of seduction. 
Lei. Trees 

bring no fruit, no fortunes mul- 
tiply, 



Tide comes not in, and neither time 

maintains 
Itself. If true thou sayest it, I 
Do not thee love, I swear it by the God 
Of Heaven. 
Eliz. [Striking him.] Thou damn'st 

thyself. How shalt thou say 
Unto another? [Strikes him fiercely.'] 

Out caitiff, out, ere 
I tread upon thee toothless viper. 

What, 
Bait me? What? Oh! J shall snatch 

from thee thy sight, 
Tear from thee countenance, thou 

mocking idol, 
Thou rascally villain, unreputed knave. 
Murderer! dos't hear? Murderer, 

CURSE,— curse, — curse. 

[Eliz. swoons, Lei. catches 
her as she falls. 

Lei. My hands are filthy hands, God 
knows 'tis true, 
For doing that that thou dids't bid 
me do. [Kisses her. 

[Curtain fail*. 



Scene II. The same. 

Enter French and Spanish 
Embassadors. 

French Em. My Lord, I hope I shall 

not you offend, 
By relating an affair, that to my ears 
Was blown so late as yesterday. 

Spanish Em. No ear 

Sir, is offended with a feud, 
If so the tongue would, find another 

topic. 
For as much runs the world into these 

Christian 
Days. He who rejects the worthless 

paper, 
Accepts the condemnation of his neigh- 
bor, 
But for my part, as to what you have 

to say, 
If information I desire — but, 
If gossip I should be pleased to hear or 

not 
To hear. 
French Em. That is a pious teaching, 

my lord, 
A pious teaching. For where is to be 

found 
The man, who'd not reject a countless 

coin, yet lend 
His ear to hear accursed a character. 
Indeed 'twas ever so, what tills of men 
Reject, the souls of men be open to 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act I. 



Accept. But as to the matter I refer, 

I do 
Not gossip, but iustruct you sir. Dud- 
ley- 
Created Leicester, is as I am informed, 
To be ere long the Scottish king, which 

in 
Effect, will blight the hopes of Phillip, 

King 
Of Spain whose capital you represent. 
The game is played too dark for me, 

but as 
I think this sovereign, she shall be 

loathe 
At parting with her favorite. 

Spanish Em. We fear; 

But have no fear of him, no drop of 

kings 
Is into him legitimate; but young 
Lord Daruley, the Paris of the period, 
The royal blood of Tudor and of Stuart 
Is here released. Upon which an- 
nouncement 
He mounts his steed, and gallops past 

the wind 
To Scotland. We fear this consequence 
May rob Don Carlos of his love. 



Scene III. The court of Queen Mary 
at Holyrood. Scene in the back- 
ground. Darnley surrounded by 
ladies. Upon the stage a group of 
envious lords. 

Enter Letiiington. Morton 
addresses him. 

Mort. Note my lord, Lord Darnley, 
from England, 
New come down. 
Leth. They say of him the wit he 

hath, 
Is in his mouth. 

Mort. And pour 't 

forth, he does 
Most generous, until alas^ he does 
Run dry, to crack as baken turf. 

Lindsay. I do 

Not know the man that talks so much, 

and says 
So little. 
Argute. Then you would call him 

fool. 
Leth. So, full 

But not o' sense. 
Mort. Aye gentlemen too, 

and 
That he is' arrogant he boasts to claim. 
[Darnley and ladies are heard 
to loudly laugh. 



Enter Moray at side. 

Mor. Cease— cease that sound, that 

mimicry, that empty 
Ha, — ha, — ha. 
For so the Matterhorn's treacherous 

gorge 
Doth echo back the foot-steps, ere ye 

fall. 
That bell— that charms the bride, that 

next proclaims 
The funeral knell. [More laughter.] So, 

so; keep on, 
Keep on, with fortune keep, that makes 

men laugh, before 
They weep as divers do, — so merriment 
Goes higher up to plunge but deeper 

down. 
[Continued laughter.] Laugh on, — 

laugh on, as out shall flow, 
From laughter's tears, the tears of woe, 
But note my lords, how he does charm 

<the world 
With all his presence. A braying brash 

at place 
Of worship holds office less conspicu- 
ous. 
How like a snarling cur, twixt strained 

hearing, 
And the orator. Note; gentlemen, but 

note. 
Teething babes or prate of maidens 

'tract 
Nothing so much attention. 

Enter Sadler, English 
Embassador. 

How now, 
Sadler? In name of God— Why 
sent your sovereign 

Here, this popinjay? 
Sad. He came without 

Our sovereign's consent. 
Mor. Why sir, — 

your mistress 

Promised to send Lord Dudley down 

To please this queen. No more could 
come of that. 

That he is not born of a princely strain, 

But this young peacock spreads feath- 
ers like the fowl. 

Each golden eye looks out a' former 
king. 
Sad. What, has he favor found? 

Mor. What, favor? Why? 

By the almighty mark he will be king. 

This queen it seems, hath set on him 
her heart, 

And all our plans, that as a breed of 
princes, 

Even walked, are now as beggars ragged 

And refused. We thought as your 
great sovereign 



Act I.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



Did instruct to 'volve her in 

Religious wars. Our winds were howl- 
ing, sir, 

And waves would swallowed her, but 
here her marriage 

With a Protestant puts into harbor, 

And leaves our seas to roar at where 
she was. 
Sad, Be not disconsolate, 

you overcharge, 

Too much him apprehend. He's but a 

boy ' 
His years are tender, and his sense so 

timid. 
Too young for wiles that men adopt to 

win , 

The bosom of a woman. He's but our 

subject, 
Too, and orders I have here to send him 

home. 
But to mv sacred charge. [Hands him 

a packet.] This packet will 
Contain ten thousand pounds, with 

which you bribe 
Lords Caithness and Argyle. Immedi- 
ately 
Seek confidence of each, and thereupon 
Rise open up in arms. We shall seek 
Provocation of this queen to re-enforce 

you. 
Be instant and perform. [Hands him 

a letter.] What more there is 
Of confidence this letter will in part. 
Mor. May we depend on you? 
Sad. You may not on your hand 
depend else. 
But,— soft, does she still nurse 
Her bastard claim about my sovereign's 
throne? 
Mor. Talks continually of 

nothing else. 
Sad. Do your duty. 

Mor. Depend 

on me [Aside.]— How plain 
This fellow reads my mind, yet little 

sees 
The tool I make of him. And, too, his 

really 
Royal sovereign, red-headed and 
Replete, is in me equally deceived. 
She see me crowned? Not so gener- 
ous. Too well 
I know her fabric, by the way 'tis woven. 
My cloak of state must be of other 

gear. 
Yet after all her purse I may apply, 
Her instructions may obey. If it be- 
hooves 
Me even so to do. I must 'rouse all 
Who are to arms available, and yet 
The royal force will prove so form- 
idable. 
I like not well Elizabeth's armies here, 



Still our defeat, would cost us far more 

dear. [Exit. 

[Lord Darnley and the Queen 

approach the billiard table. 

Dar. The breeze that quivered dew 

upon the grass 

Blew nothing soft, as now you've played 

to win, 
And thunder's crash goes light upon 

the ear, 
As next, you bank, to win again. 

Mary. Good, 

My lord; but if in my 'fairs I were so 

'customed, 
That balls o' state would roll them as 

I desire them, 
To strike the points at issue and recoil 
To where I would they would abide, I 

would 
Be great as is my sister queen— Eliza- 
beth. 
Government is but a game my lord. 

The states 
At stake. Rule 's the table, power the 

cue, 
And men, but billiard balls, and it 

played well, 
It's played to win, but if ill played, 'tis 

played 
To ruin. 
Dar. Why shot you wide? 
Mary. So Cupid 

sh oots — 
'Tis said of him. My Cupid shoots thus 
badly. 

[Looks lovingly at Darnley. 
He looks bewildered, yet 
seems to comprehend. 
Dar. And now's my chance. 

[Mary throws a coin upon the table. 
Mary. And this your crown, if you 
Shall win it. 

[Sadler rushes between them 
and falls on his knees be- 
fore the Queen. 
Sad. Great Queen of Scotland, 

My mistress, England's 
Sovereign, to reassure you of her love, 
Hath sent me here to greet you with 

this jewel. 
So rare a one as ever yet was known, 
And as my sovereign's heart, too in- 
trinsic in 
Its value. She bade me state before 

your royal 
Person, that as spark issues from dis- 
turbed 
And ever quenchless fire, so is this gift. 
It comes from out the flame, so many 

more 
May issue from. 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act 1. 



Mar;/. My rarest treasure. 

[Sadler rising turns fiercely 

upon Darnley. 

Sad. What? You here? Have you 

not heard the mighty voice 

Of England call as if from out the 

grave, 
For you, for Lennox, and your mother, 

to return? 
To England — GO, delay if but one mo- 
ment 
At your peril. 

Dar. [Aside.']— If I to England go 

The tower awaits me. 
Mary. Hold,— You are 

but the subject 
Of a neighbor queen. Not so boister- 
ous 
With my guests; more, especially, with 

him, 
The grand -son of your English king, 

that raised 
From yeomanry your ancestors. 
Sad. His 

allegiance 
Is in England, and England must obey, 
And madam, I am here that mouth 

that speaks 
My sovereign's DEMANDS. 
Mary. His fore- 

fathers 
Were Scotchmen, and their vast estates 

here, too, 
Are confiscate. Go tell your mistress, 

sir, 
From me, that I will give an earldom 
For him. 
Sad. My charging is express, that 
she 
Shall have Lord Darnley, nothing 
else. 
Mary. Will naught 
Suffice her? 
Sad. Nothing. 

Mary. Then go, [ Tit roivs 

the jewel] upon 
Compulsion he will respond; but tell 
Your mistress I come with him, with 

my 
Fair nobles and my men. 

Sad. Your high- 

ness, war will little avail you, but rest 
assured, we prepare to receiv e you. 

| Curtain falls. 

Scene IV. — The Insurrection in the 

Highlands. The Rebel Camp. A 

Pending Battle. Morton on the 
Stage. 

Enter Lord Rothes and' followers. 
Lord Rothes. Lord Field Marshal, 



hallo? 
Morton. Good time, Great Rothes, 
My blessings and good hopes.. What 

are 
Your forces here ? 
Lord R. They are yonder, my 

lord, and with 
Your sound dictation I will place them. 

How goes 
The day, and what has set this on or is 't 
True our sovereign determines to 

trample 
'Pon our Protestant religion. 
Morton. Her brother Moray so ex- 
poses her, 
And at the very sound of it, we 'rose 
Precipitous. Her betrothal, also, with 
Lord Darnley is announced. He is an 

English 
Officer, said to be skilled in every 
Art of war, who has been late at Rome 
And now 'tis past a doubt the Pope 

hath sent 
Him here, and for a trophy of the 

Scottish 
Crown he is to conquest over our 
Reforms. 
Lord R. And is our out-look well? 
Morton. It was 
Far better. Argyle has been too much 

at fault. 
At Parenwell the Queen's more weak 

array, 
Rode on our watchful fires, and even as 
We'd planned to intercept her 

Lord Moray, 
Flanking from the west, caused them 

to take 
Easterly course, Argyle failing to 
Co-operate, she made unhurt escape, 
Gained Aberfeldy, and there 's re- 
enforced 
Into a mighty army. 

Enter Argyle and son. Duke of 
De Chastallan and others 
front opposite direction. 

De C. How now my 

Lords 
And gentlemen, why here? 
Argyle. To ask our- 

selves 
The question, for why— for wherefore — 
Or for what more, I know not, other 

than 
'Twas put in such a plot. The jeopardy 
Of Jesus Christ and his religion, 
Not less, but more, which now, I do not 

at 
This time recall, and seeming so in fear, 
That Heaven was resolved upon by she 
Of Scots I came in the defense, sir, of 



Act I.J 



KING DAEXLEY. 



The devil. (The less the nobleman if 
there 

Be such.) my lord of Moray, and that, 
to 

Prevent. Why came De Chastallan? 
De C. If I construe not your ambig- 
uity, 

The same, my lord. His cunning played 
so well 

Upon my conscience, and so awful was 

Religious persecution put by him 

That my great soul, as inwards of a 
world. 

Did thus erupt. 

Enter Keere. 

Keere. Great nobleman. I am 

So much delighted here to meet you 
all. 
Argyle. Indeed, and so are all our 
enemies, 
Good Keere. 

Keere. As next they will be 

grieved that we 
Are come. My lords, I deem it here 

and at 
This time expedient to say that as 
All things of heart should have a head. 

and 
Scotland soon without a sovereign will 

be, 
We, the very pulse of our affairs, 
Should such enact over us. 
Argyle. You speak, 

sir, as 
A prophet, sir, too much a prophet. 
Keere. My 

noble lord. 
We do expect, with aid of England now 
At hand (which pray God speed), to 

hold this day 
Our sovereign captive. 

Argyle. What's most ex- 

pected least happens, 'tis ever so, a law 
of nature; and there is nothing cer- 
tain, sir, but the bad's results, honor's 
income, and too much exalted, disap- 
pointment. 
Keere. I move you gentlemen to 

it— 
Argyle. To what, 
Say you? 
Keere. That in event of our pre- 
vailing 
Here, we choose from out our numbers, 

one 
To rule; and for my part, I would sug- 
gest 
Lord Moray to the eminence. 

Argyle. You do 

Forget your-self. 
De C. Lord Moray though 

praise-worthy 



As a gentleman 's a— 

Argyle. Bastard! 

Keen'. As was 

Great Henry VII, king of England. His 

right 
Accession made by act of Parliament — 

Argyle. Then should our Parliament 
create monkeys men, and men to fall to 
worship them. Mark you, "what God 
hath joined together, let no man put 
asunder." Therefore, in what God hath 
no hand 't were better man put not his 
finger. [Aside]— Indeed, expecting it, 
I thought it would have come from 
some sweet orator, not from this daw, 
that chatters what it heard. 

De C. Bastards, are for the most 
part base; not due to Heaven, neither 
Hell, but to natural distemper of their 
mothers, as molds impressions make, 
so are they born; so much impressed 
with shame, with hatred, and distrust, 
that naught betokens good of them. 

Enter Moray and escort. 

Argyle. We shall have none base of 
birth to rule Scotland, neither in other 
plar^e of favor. 

Moray. Is not thy countess, sir, my 
illegitimate sister? 

Argyle. So, so, and in so much unfit 
to be my wife, I am resolved at parting 
with her. 

Moray. As briers shed their roses, 
so do the Campbells doff their coun- 
tesses. 
Rothes. Pie, fie, my lords, for shame, 
here in the very 
Face of fight, such sharp and heated 

discourse. 
To befall. How shall we hope to con- 
quer? 
Will broken ranks prove barricades to 

stop 
The onslaught of a nation. Shall 

Popery 
Ride over us, already vanquished, 
And who will live a victor? Are we 

not rebels, 
Each of us. and numbered by the foe? 
Fie, — my lords, make light of it. Make 

very. 
Very light; be true and loving friends, 
As ever you have been. 

Argyle. The soul of a friend is not a 
ship that every sail will fit; there is 
peculiarity about friendship, it is not 
best to become too intimate 

De C. Where to my lord? 

Argyle. To Castle Campbell, 

[Exit Ar<;vle and De C. 



10 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act I. 



Young Argyle. [Snapping his finger 
in Moray's race.] He that wages 
war against the Campbells, 
Needs number enemies, in mother, son 
and relative. [Exit. 

George Douglas. And so it goes, 
The best of friends, make up the worst 
of foes. 
Moray. [Addressing Morton.] Con- 
jure with them, my lord. Con- 
cede, concede, 
For with them goes the right wing of 
our army. [Exit Mort. 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. A spy upon the ene- 

my's position, 
But now comes in. 

Enter Spy. 

Spy. My lord, the Queen 

put into Keremore, 
And was received by that good earl 'pon 
His knees. Protestants there swarmed 

beneath 
Her standard, and through the night, 

cries of "The Queen,'' 
"God save the bonny face" at Acaran 
Were plainly audible. Her marriage too, 
With Darnley 's reported. 

Enter Messenger hastily. 

Messenger. My lord, 

Earl Huntley, 

Your arch enemy at head of Aberdeen, 

Rides head-long from the mountains, 
and joins the Queen 

At Keremore, and as I am informed 

He hath ta'en neither food nor drink, 
but through 

The night, with drawn blade, impatient 
rode before 

His watch-fires. 
Mora//. You are too much enam- 

ored of 

This puppet lord. [Slaps him.] Go, 
cool your ardor with 

New information. . , 

\Exit Messenger. 

Enter Morton — Servant. 

Servant. My lords, a Highland 

messenger. 

Enter Messenger. Moray 
rushes hastily to him. 

Moray. Have you, sir, been 

informed, 
Is Athol's lord with us, in sympathy? 
Messenger. He joins the Queen, sir, 

with a thousand spear. 



Moray. Has Had- 

dington been called upon? 
Mes. He has, 

My lord, with no response. 
Moray. Go then, 

seek aid 
Of Randclitf and the border chieftains. 

Ser. They, too, 
My lord, have re-enforced the enemy. 

Enter fourth Messenger in 
greed haste. 

Mes. My lords, our allies entering 
Edinborough, 

Are fired upon by Erskine from the 
tower. 

So hot and hornet-like was the re- 
ception 

They broke into precipitous retreat. 

Enter Servant. 

Ser. Gentlemen; the English general. 
The Gentlemen. The English! The 
English. 

Enter Sir Ralph Sadler. 

Moray. How now, Sadler, lead you 
The squadrons in? 

Sadler. The Queen, my mistress, 
fearing danger at hands of France and 
Spain, sends not men, but money to 
your aid. 

Moray. Your mistress sir. is gen- 
erous. [Aside.]— And trust-worthy as 
the devil. 

Sad. How say you uow? 

Moray. Your mistress is generous. 

Sad. Depend on 't and hear the proof 
of it. She further doth provise, that if 
prevailed over, you seek refuge with, — 
her English soil. [Handing him a let- 
ter.] This letter, sir, to you more pri- 
vately is sent. 

Enter first Messenger. 

Mes. The Queen's array, at Keremore 

new re-enforced. 
N5w turn their faces to the rising sun, 
And are from yonder summit visible. 
From fair Dunkeld their banners 

frown, 
To Annelree. The Queen rides hard 

into 
The van, with Darnley glittering to the 

spear. 
So hotly plied, by lash and spur, their 

horse 
Seems if they'd leave the earth, in mad 

career 
Gentlemen. To England; to England! 



Act II. J 



KING DARNLEY. 



11 



Moray. Away; away! 
We give them battle, but another day. 
[Exit all but Moray 
and Douglas. 
[Moray and Douglas exchange 

their disguises. 
Moray. Go you to England, you per- 
sonate 



Lord Moray there. That queen will 

call you to 
Account before embassadors of France 
And Spain. Do you as previously by 

her 
Instructed. Be guided by this letter and 
No more. Go now, I here remain, to 

light this battle with my brain. 
[ Curtain falls. 



ACT II. 



Scene I.— Home of George Douglas. 
Moray disguised as Douglas. 

"Thought! Hath thought a wit? Ay, 

faith, unlimited; 
And naught hath wit that hath it not. 

Ah! what 
A brilliant star is pate, to but twinkle 

gi'. 
If man would in him put to sea, he'd 

• find 
Him continents, rivers, seas, receding 

skies, 
Could man but himself, explore." So 

must I jabber, 
Jostle, prate, and put all thought within 
My reach, as to assume the man is 

likelier, 
To assume his garb being not sufficient. 
And too must 1 say what fits, and do 

what fits, 
Serve me first, my neighbor after,— if 

ever, 
As is the conduct of mankind; or vir- 
tues 
All assume and none regard. To be 
Their devil? Think before and after I 
Do act; to be wise; and too it is that 

the wisest 
Man o' the world, is not so happy, as 
The greatest fool in Christendom. 

Kings 
That envy slumber of their slaves, covet 
Happiness in what is most despised. 
And what is happiness? Tis what men 

seek. 
And all, that any man desires. Con- 
tentment, 
And where found? In love, while it 

will last, - 
In Heaven — in satisfaction whatsoever, 
And wherever found. Goes 't hand in 

hand 
With riches? As harmony accompanies 
Turmoil; Shall it be found at festival? 



Not so, there jealousies attend it. We 
wed 

Too much our woes to seek it carnally. 

Then, is it a thing of soul? It is. 

Of conscience? Never without con- 
science. 

And what path do lead to it? Con- 
science. 

Ah! what it is to be a man! I know 

The course. 'Tis to be a moral man — 

Not womanish; miser not, neither 
spendthrift; 

Religious, and if not, to be, what relig- 
ion 

Would make of me,— before Heaven and 
myself — 

Respectable. To be and ever for to be 

Depended on. Make trust a vow; 
promise 

What shall be performed not more nor 
less; break 

No heart. Hear no slander— if obliged 
to, 

Not repeat. Have dignity, not disre- 
gard. 

Abstain from what is hurtful to myself 

And to another. Be courteous with all 

But vice. To word, to be a mod'rate 
modest 

Man; to be a temperate man. Make 

No foes, neither make of these my 
friends. Do 

As I'd have others do by me, myself 

To be mine own example. Know what 
is charity; 

Bestow it privately. Want what is 
reasonable; 

Let houor guide desire; and in my 
dealings 

And transactions, to do as if stood 
present, — 

God. Aye, in my case, as in the case 
of many, 

To be a man 's to be but the reverse 

Of that that I have been. Him of truth , 



12 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act IL 



Trust and integrity, by reason governed 
By conscience guided; though jostled 

in about 
The world's affairs yet is he there a 

man. 
The sire, the relative, backpointed— to 
By many. Be a man, to have respect 
( )f men, let scruple damn itself, — and 

even 
There a man 's respected. Oh! would 

that I 
Were but so much, a man,— not more, 

nor less, 
But simply — ■- Ambition hath so 

wrought 
And twisted me, pruned my virtues, (if 

the like 
I had) swerved manhood (if such ever I 
Possessed) made me the wanton wizard 

of 
My wit; to buff with Fortune's sea,— 

the shark; 
To frequent life's stream, — the croco- 
dile; to feud 
Accompaniment, unknown to harmony; 
No faith in God nor man; none in my- 
self; 
Hated myself and the prosperity 
Of others. Yesterday the paragon 
Of men,— to-day despised by every man; 
My plans, my pomp, no longer flourish- 
ing. 
Beaten by women and by fortune that 
Doth envy me. Paupered and un- 

princely 
I return, the rebel and the outcast. 
In mine own dominions, — what I might 
Have been 's the thing I even was, my 

destiuy: 
Tis left me to decide. King Darnley 

goes 
This way, and if unto his ear I do 
Be suppliant I shall set thither to his 

soul 
Such train of black and diabolical 
Distrust about his mistress, as breaks 

the heait 
Of him and she. Promotion builds me, 

and » ' 

Re-instates my power as new portend- 

able. 
If foiled, if recognized, or so discovered, 
I do escape the penalty, 1 
Shall seek among the Alpine cliffs a 

summit 
And a gorge; a slip,— a plunge,— the 

world 
Is profited. Thus may I do one well deed 
E'er I die. 

Entir Darnley and Rizzio. 

Darn. My king- 

dom sir, goes much 



Beyond the apprehension of my 

thought, — 
Husbandry to be commended, copious 
Scenery, pleasing valleys, pitching hills. 
Waters most salubrious, and— 
God spare the mark;— but for the pipes, 

Hike 
The people. Keep horse in readiness 

for the slogan 
Of a Highlander. 
Mor. [Throws himself upon the arm 

of Rizzio, and like a wild animal, 

scrutinizing Darnley, addressing. 

Rizzio thus:] My lord, if not so, 
To say the least, a noble man is Rizzio, 
How much amiss appointment is that 

men 

Such distribute 

Riz. It is a pity sir. 

Mor. As by my faith it is. Quality 

gets not 
Well on; too much jealousied is set the 

habit 
Of a private, whilst offices much hold 

contempt 
Of it, with chance of fortune that puts 

virtue 
In the way of power. How too maxim- 
less 
Is every possibility; yet, here 
Is metal for good making; if my sound 
Faculty perceives not with mischance 
He shall prove stuff in him, and hold 

an edge 
With any man. What majesty? What? 

What? 
What? King? Ye Gods, look at him 

to your spite; 
Youth not out of him, yet by the Gods 
Is he a man withal. Shall I not be 
Presented, signor? 

Riz. How? 

Mor. To the king. 

Riz. As by 
What title? 
Mor. He is my nephew; of so 

much you are 
Informed. Present me in the manner. 
Riz. [Addressing Darnley. .] My lord, 
If in 't 1 make no mistake, that he be 

called 
Aoostulate, your relative and kinsman, 
George Douglas, son to Douglas the in- 
triguer. 
Darn. History points much at 

your sire, as do 
The English. 
Mor. [Aside], — So is a man the fin- 
ger of . 
His father's scorn, to point to him, and 

ever 
To be pointed from; yet how shall 

bastards 



Act II.] 



KING DARN LEY 



13 



Be for certain known? It is so, 

My liege, yet history hath but hearsay 

for 
My kindredhood. Dogs, to know their 

fathers. 
Should have predestiuy o* these and not 
The vague suspicion of their mothers. 

To be 
Respectable, 'tis the office of my soul, 
And so if to be respected, 'twere bet- 
ter so, 
Than rated, and rejected, for what my 

father 'd done, 
Before he 'd done what 's resulted in 
my birth. 
Darn. That Nature's dame 

hath tipped thy tougue with some 
Sparse wit, it matters not thy kindred 
sir. 

[Shakes hands with him. 
Mor. Good my liege, thou 'It 

pledge it so in wine. 

[Pours out wirn . 

Good wine improves the spirits, if not 

the spirit. 

Darn. Though as I came I 

drank exhorbitant 

And feel something the paralytic 

symptoms 
That so attend, yet, I shall not forbear, 
But drink. Here's to the wits of 

Douglas! 
How, Rizzio? Shall you bear us so- 
cially? 
Riz. I thank your lordship, 

no; being that upon 
My wits I put my whole dependence. 
[Darnley drinks. 
Mor. Alack, 
My liege, but wits are woes to them 

that have 
Them much; and by Saint Paul to those 

that lack 
Of them they are so much the more 
required. 
Darn. Ha! ha! ha! 

Mor. Thou 'It 

drink again? 

[Both drink. 
Darn. Thou 'rt a merry wag. 

I like thee. 

Mor. In very sooth my liege, 

Not as the ladies like, but to thyself 
Becomingly. Thou likest me for my 

wits; 
They like me for my lack o' wits, as 

faith 
It is that he that hath the favor of 
The woman talks not to her, sense but 
nonsense. 
Dam. Why, this is remark- 

able? 



Mor. Aye. but it is true. 

True 's the unworthy love would wed 
Or as goes much love alone to bed. 
Darn. I did never hear the like. 
Mor. Thou say 'st it not; the like is 
everywhere; 
Love 's despised; and he that despises 

love is loved, 
And fools that should live, to spite, 

suicide. 
And too it ever follows that he that 

gets 
The beating does the talking about how 

it was, 
And the denying, of that it ever could 
have been. 
Dam. I like the sense of 

that; that I have heard 
More souls are wrecked by love than 

rum; now, that 
Would say that wine is not as bad as 
women. 
Mor. Ha! ha! ha! Good! that is very 
good. Why, that is remarkable— and 
whiskey not so bad as men. Wine 's 
a good soul — sparks no man, divorces 
none; if left aloue will live alone; if in- 
troduced to company, gets right in with 
everyone; its acquaintance, as you like 
it. will break off in an evening, or go 
with you to perdition if you let it. A 
toast! a toast! 

Here 's to the berry, clink a chime, 
To the favor and the flavor o' the 

wine; 
(With a frolic and a revel. 
Though the bottle bear the label 
Into every drop a devil) were sub- 
lime. 
Darn. Why, that is notably a won- 
drous production. 

M^or. More wondrous than wonder- 
ful. [Both drink. 
Dam. Wine is very like a lady as 
aforesaid — to a man very becoming. 

Mor. Ay, and they would wear what 
is becoming. 

Dam. Ha! ha!— Bewitching, very be- 
witching, looks enticing, smiles en- 
chanting, goes not courting; 

Mor. And stays at home for the pur- 
pose. 

Darn. Well now there, again. Ha! 
ha! Like as to love itself, tasted of 
by prince and peasant; kings drink, 
get drunk and get sober, just as do 
other men. 

Mor. Aye, but they do not fall as 
other men. The couutry holds them 
up, and what they drink the couutry 
pays for; and if they stagger the couu- 
try steadies them, and when they vomit 
the country throws her mantle o'er 't. 



14 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act IL 



Ah! The country is a good friend to 
the king. [Drinks.] And if they 're 
lewd, the country looks not; and when 
they damn, the country cries for mercy. 

[Sings. 

There lives a king ayont the sea, 

P'doodle'I, P'doodle'E. 
He tastes a gallon at a 'pree, 

P'doodle'I P'doodle'E. 

His bonnie queen he set to sea, 

Her servants, too, to row her wi', 

Then takes a lassie on his knee, 

P'doodleT, P'doodle'E. 

Darn. Why, thou art as blithe 's a 
moonbeam, bleak 's a mountain, and 
full o' frisk 's any kitten. This is the 
most extraordinary rhyming I did ever 
hear, philosophic, too, and funny. 
Thou art as full o' melodies as a 

Mor. Pibroch. 

Darn. That same is the most hellish 
instrument of torture known to me. 
It murders melody. 

Mor. Alas! my liege, and melody do 
seem to suffer piteous— a -strangling— 
such cries o' dying and such moans o' 
more of it— makes merry anguish, and 
hanging to be jested at by criminals. 

[Sings. 

" Awa wi' the droons, the chanter 
and bags, 

And hurt not the drums o' our civ- 
ilized ears, 

Wi' their wheezin' and schreechin' 
an' moanin' and hugs, 

O' the blethers.'" 

Darn. Why— you— you are the most 
exuberant philanthropist in my domin- 
ions. As— as says Shakespeare of Eng- 
land, in u that was a more exquisite 
song than— than the other,"— this goes 
pleasantly —and all goes very well with 
the Lord and the Savior of men and — 
and— and of women, and salvation is a 
good thing. As— as say— we— English, 
— the— the — devil faints where, — where 
men stand up. 

Mor. And so it goes, my liege, the 
devil hath no show in these days. He 
is beaten everywhere, out classed and 
out of countenance.. And faith it is 
that if so it runs, into another century, 
he shall be out o' fuel, and there's an 
end. 

Darn. You are a bred nobleman, as 
I'm a king, you are. 

Mor. And your kinsman. 

Darn. God bless you v certainly a 
nobleman, legitimate or 'illegitimate, 
that matters not. Blood 's blood, blood 



in dogs, blood in horses, blood in any- 
thing, — blood 's perceptible— blood — 
blood— blood —blood, I tell you squire, 
it does take blood to make a man. 

Mor. It is a most necessary part of 
man; indeed, it is a very absolute in- 
gredient, for, without blood, a man 
could not possibly live a minute. 

Darn. Why, sir, a bred horse, — will 
go on -and on. 

Mor. And that he will, and if his 
rider be a bred nobleman, there's no 
stoppin' of them — short of any tavern. 
Darn. Oh, Heavens above us, but I'm 
drunk, and you are drunk [puts the 
bottle to his mouth], and all the wine is 
drunk; and you 're a gentleman; I wish 
you speech. Life and speech, why bless, 
you, here 's my hand on it. Speech is 
a virtue with the wise; a pity is a wise 
man dies. 
Mor. [Aside.] — If now I get the sec- 
retary out, 
Who is among our lords unpopular 
As any cur that would presume a man's 
Position, I then may introduce 
With better countenance into this 

drunkard's 
Brains, the friendship of some villain- 
ous 
Report, that somehow complicates her 

stalwart 
Chastity of Scots (God spare my bad 
Materials), with this bow-legged inno- 
cence 
Of Italy, who at best is but 
The watchdog of the Pope at large, 

which, got in motion 
Properly — but too much I speculate, 
And oft mischance puts twixt the pur- 
pose and 
The pointed lance — shall you not set 

adrift 
This Rizzio? He mars our company, 
The villain that he is. I like him not, 
And shall have at him straight. 
Darn. Why 

Rizzio 's 
An innocent man! 

Mor. He— is a black devil 

That makes innocence his outer wear. 
Darn. Rizzio! Go— look to my tang- 
ibles 

And movables 

Mor. Not to your wife. 

[Exit Rizzio. 
Say 
Not so; he so much will dc without 

command. 
Oh! if I do ever meet the villain any- 
where, 
But grant me patent to make mince of 
him. 



Act II.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



15 



Dam. [After a long jiause.'] Thou 
lie'st, as I shall swear it so by 

every 
God in sacred giving, by every star 
That glances at the night. This is un- 
popular— 
And perverse, — damned as doings of the 

Devil 
It sobers me, — gives reason back. I 

say, 
Thou lie'st. 
Mor. So said a mother of her 

erring 
Daughter once. Thy humor's good. 

'Tis love 
Appeals and not thy wit. She 's not a 

mother 
Who would not curse (and so obscenely 

too) 
The truth about her child's infirmity, 
And he is not above the animal 
That brooks to look— upon the filthy 

witness 
Of his love. I would deny the truth 
Of it abont my sweetheart, by Heaven, 

if she 
Gave birth to twins, if all Hell's clatter 

gates 
Were open with their tides, I would so 

turn 
Them back again, deny this hand of 

mine; 
Call right, left, swear black is white, 

and face 
The truth as fenders face the flames. 

Love 's 
A goodly spirit, and he that hath it 

not 's 
A snake- drawer, a broken reed, a heart- 
less worm; 
. Oh! he is as miserable as a missing 
Murderer, he that hath no love. 
Darn. 'Tis a 

dream; reality could not 
So damnable appear; 'tis but the fancy 
Of a thing created of the drink 
And not of premises. 

[ Throws the glass. 
Oh! Curse the 

foul 
Intoxication of my soul that so 
Embezzles with the funds of my condi- 
tion, 
I have often heard of it; that it do lead 
To seein' of the serpent and things so 

monstrous 
And mysterious as harrows out 
The soul in fright of them. My senses 

fume — 
'Tis false! 
Mor. As it is true. 
Darn. How mean 

you false 



As true? 
Mor. I mean it false as true. To 
say 
That it is true as it is false. But, — 
Forgive my sin, as by my soul, I spoke 
Not to offend. I swear 't by the im- 
mortal 
Part of me. The mentioning — it breaks 
My heart to think of it. But we were 

drunk 
And drunk was bubbled o'er what first 

was on 
My brain. Forgive, and we will fall to 

something . 
Slighter. I have a better wine. We'll 
Sample it, and although you did ex- 
claim 
So out against wine harshly, and al- 
though 
At times I freely shall confess, we are 
Dismembered by it altogether, yet 
It makes us to forget what memory 
Would destroy us with. But tell me, 

nephew, 
Candidly, hast thou not never heard 
This thing before? 

Dam. As upon my honor. 

Mor. "As upon 
My honor " — that is strange. 

Dam. What? 

Some gossip, 
Slanderlike talk about the court? 
Mor. My liege! 
Darn. With Rizzio, did you 

• say? 
Mor. My liege, no more 

Of it. Speak pleasantly — some lighter 

topic. 
W T e are friends and it follows not. 

Dam. Does it not follow, 

Friends are confidants? 

Mor. Ay, too much 

That way, and ever, and they separate, 
And the confidence is still between 
them. 
Darn. 'Tis said, 

He that reposes no confidence is not 
A friend to any man. 

Mor. Ay, too, and it 

Is said, he that never told a lie 
Must nine times out o' ten truth deny. 
Some wine! and we will make good 

pastime 
Of the present, perchance another will 
Break confidence, as 't behooves me to 

content 
My tongue. I once a lady warned and of 
Her danger and was myself adjured by 

her 
For that I knew and, too, I spoke so to 
A man most devilish set upon — and by 
A woman; and well nigh wore a gallows 
for 



10 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act II. 



My pains. Once, too, it happened that 

I did tell 
A lady that I loved (which makes my 

heart 
Nigh break to think of it), of devilish 
Intrigue set at us by one— her rival and 
Her former friend, and now it is that 

both 
The rival and myself remain unwed. 
Darn. I shall know your mind. 

[Wine brought in. 
Mor. The wine comes! I 
Sball tell thee nothing. 
Darn. Then, by the 

God I'll spill 
Thee out and give thee fighting to de- 
fend 
Thyself. 

Mor. I am a Douglas, my olood will 
Not brook with such temptation. 
Dam. I am 

a Stuart, 
And do defy thy blood. 
Mor. My liege! 

Patience! 
Be patient! Patience is a peace maker. 
As anger leads to loss of life and often, 
Strike not your friend in- any man; a 

man's 
Friends are a few. They are a rampart, 

which, 
If torn down, would leave you at the 

mercy 
Of your enemies. If thou shouldst 

kill me 
Into hot contested fight, — 'tis not thy 
way. 
Darn. It is impossible. Her eyes! 
No dove's 
Ever yet were modest. No man of 

travel 
Known to me has seen the like. 

Mor. If 

Their likeness be not in the dew-drop 

found. 
'T were in vain to further go in search 
of it. 
Darn. They are enchantingly 

lovely; why, every high 
Authority of the soul stops spellbound, 
If they look. 
Mor. And there is no small 

doubt 
Of that (yet is it not a power that ser- 
pents 
Have, wild beasts and birds much 

charm their prey); 
They are most bewitching wonderful. 
Darn. But she is fair. 
Mor.. But fair is 

fickle. 
Darn. Ay, 

But she is beautiful. 



Mor. As it follows, 

Less beautiful, is more desirable. 
Have you not observed that she is much 

apart 
With him? 

Dam. With whom? 

Mor. With Rizzio. 

Darn. Whom? 
Mor. Your queen. 

Darn. In cor- 

responding, he (her secretary), 
They shut themselves much privately 

away, 
But their door's unlocked, yields before 

my hand 
At any time. 

Mor. Are you always in 

About the Court? 

Darn. I may say seldom. 

Yesterday, riding out to Ayre to visit 
With a friend; that day, but one, hawk- 
ing 
Out at Hamilton, and of the four 
Days that forewent, three spent at 
various points — 
Mor. Does their door 

yield to your hand when you 
Are hawking out, and riding out? 

Darn. [Aside.] — The like 
Is said of her of England there, and 

here, 
Too, it is disregarded. 

[Darnley reflects. 

Mor. Well, now, as by 

My very heart, I believe you 're honest, 

and am 
Something of a mind to overstep 
My sense of safety and say a thing 
(Yet 't is too devilish strange, your 

ignorance) 
Have you not observed the rascal sec- 
retary, 
How much unmannered he 's become, 

how he 
Will speak to you—" My Lord,''— as if 

commonly 
To some earl or the like. What insult 
To your dignity. 

Dam. I have noticed this 

Most prominent in him. 
Mor. - And, too, as 

you offered 
Him a glass— an honor to be talked 
About,— traditional,— he hurled the 

contents 
To your very face? 

Darn. I observed that too 

Mor. Its a damned kingly sort o' 
subject that 
He is! Have you not noted her to blush, 
If coming suddenly upon them ever? 
Darn. I once did see her so with 
stalking unexpected 



Act II. ] 



KING DARNLEY. 



17 



To her side. She flushed as I have seen 
The rose and then, so white as Alpine 

drift 
Became. But now as I remember her, 
She was so sallow,— sick'd pale, fearful 
I became that she would swoon from 

such thing 
As came over her; but 'neath the trem- 
bling hand 
Upon the letter-head, were prominent 
The characters, " His Holiness, the 

Pope." 
I, rigorous Protestant, did think it that. 
Mor. How quick of her to so conceal 

the message! 
Dam. Ay, but she was 

fond of me. 
Mor. Ay, but that is it; 

so they do — but if not 
So fond, thou 'rt better fortified. They 

are lustful; 
They are loving; they are natural, and 

have 
Been known to fondness most when 

faithless, — but, 
If shrewish so, or discontented, a man 
Is ever safe with them from other men. 
Darn. This is too, a villainous insin- 
. uation. 
My heart feels as if some very uncouth 
Beast bad gotten into it. What of this 

Rizzio? 
How dare you hint of him? 
Mor. Now, by 

my soul, 
I must have confidence of that that I 
Have sworn in solvency of trust to keep 
It so, whatever else I may do erringly, 
I shall not break mine oath with my 

Creator, 
Not though it be given into holding of 

the Devil. 
Darn . I swear by God 

to keep your confidence 
Prom every man. 
Mor. Well, now, that is 

most fair 
Indeed, for if it get not out, it is still 
A secret. A woman's secret! Well, 

now, as by 
My love, I'm something so disposed 

and will 
To speak my mind most freely out upon 
Conditions. First: that you shall swear 

by God 
And, too, most sacredly upon your 

honor, 
To breathe not a word I may express 

to you, 
To any man, to any woman, at any 
Time, for any cause. 



Darn. I swear. 

[Kisses his blade. 

Mor. Secondly: 

That you will nothing do without— and 

be guided 
By my plain instructions, that I 
May better bring you to some certain 

place 
And at some apt occasion, that your 

own eyes 
Will show you what is what. 

Darn. It shall be 

done. 
Mor. Ay, but swear upon this 

blade with thy 
Pair lips to't, the oath pronounced. 
Darn. I swear. 

Mor. Third: when his 

guilt (Rizzio's guilt) is fully so 
Established, and being as I hate him 

for 't, 
Hating every man for such offense, 
Grant that I be first to strike him to 

the dead 
In name of Henry, King of Scotland. 

Darv. It shall 
Be so, if treason will be found as his 
Misdeed. 
Mor. Now last of all, if the love I 
prove 
For you (in so much good service too), 

be worthy 
Of a title, the like your Highness may 
Bestow on me, yet I demand no such 

thing, 
Neither shall I say, if so denied, 
That such thing I should have or I 
ought to have. 
Darn. This, too, will be 

considered, and if Rizzio 
Be found offender, you then are free to 

deal 
With him, now, not too hastily, speak 

plain, 
And out. 

Mor. Then, your attention, he hath 
With him— 
Darn. Who hath? 
Mor. Rizzio, — hath 

with him 
Out Italy, as often shown to me 
Some " pellets " (there used), in traffic 

of good morals, 
Or in the circumstance of love that 

otherwise 
Could not be won), which "pellets" 

dissolved in wine 
Or other sweet ingredient, and so 
Delivered, creates a fondness for the 

giver. 
And, as I am informed by him, it hath 



18 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act II. 



Such held restraint upon the nerve dis- 
patch, 
And on such lines of that communica- 
tion, 
As summon moral officers about 
The blood and brain,— and so, and so 

turned loose 
The appetites, they being void of all 

restraint 
Upon them. 
Darn. Oh! I shall have him 

choked! — 
Mor. Ay, 

My liege. 
Dam. Into a space one-half his size. 
Mor. Well, now, that is better, but 
stain not your hands 
With him, I pray you, or have it said 

that lion 
Ever set upon so foul a rat. 
I'll his executioner; but first 
Grant that we be face to face; that I 
Shall make him to confess himself. 

Darn. Ob ! 
The mocking monster! But, my lady, 

did 
You say?— not her? 
Mor. Why, you aston- 

ish me. 
Darn. Devoted like to kiss with 

him innocently, — 
Not yet his victim? 

Mor. You have not 

heard? 
Darn. As by 

My God, faithless do you mean? Does 

with him 
Immodestly, with Rizzio,— some slan- 
derlike 
Talk about the court! 
Mor. Why — that is as 

public 
As a proclamation, were you dumb 
As yonder pillar-stone, it could not so 
Have gotten past you. 
Darn. By my right 

hand, it were 
So charitable an action to strike your 

rapier 
In my heart as this. 

Mor. I see, my liege, 

It would not made so terrible a cut. 

[Cries. 
But thou 't witness to 't, I tried to 

snap 
The blade of it from its position when 
You, like Brutus, ran at it. 

Darn. Feel not 

So wounded, boy, 'twas but the hilt that 

• struck thee. 
The blade was in my 'breast, God bless 

you, 
Good meaning fellow, as Brutus shc.uld 



Have blessed him Strato. Brutus died 
to save 

Disgrace. 'T were better too I knew of 
mine 

Dishonor; I felt some pause here at my 
heart 

But presently, and now it goes again, 

A sort o' feebleness. — I think it is 

Not broken possibly, or faintness would 

So there continue, don't you think? 
The villain, 

Remove him, no harm to the lady. 
Mor. He that lays 

A touch on her dies by my blade, or if 

He make the lily o' her bosom heave, 

He goes with me to the dust, if I must 
lack 

The life, to know that I did kill him, — 
and may 

Heaven look on her with no less grati- 
tude. 

Than she smiles out her eyes at every 
man, 

Why — she shall be bristled with protec- 
tion, 

As porcupine before its enemies; 

But this vile cur that bays her lord and 

sleeps with her — 

Darn. Oh God! Oh God! 

[Reels, gropes feebly 

for the entrana . 

[Exit Darxley. 

Mor. Well now, by my soul, 

I must not be so hard on him, or I 
Will kill him oversoon.— " What a fall- 
ing off 
Was there," as said the ghost, and now 

what a coming 
On is here. Tis but the prelude, too, 
To what must follow straight upon. He 

loves her! 
Now that is the most convenient part 

about 
It all; for, loving her, he can be jeal- 
ous, 
Whereas, if he care nothing for her, 

he cares 
Not if the Devil intervene, to, from, 
Or which way. How he will flinch at 

every 
Syllable that sounds against her, yet 
After all, he shall prove such an ass 
As to believe me and not her; believe 
A lie and so regard the truth; love 
His wife more than his enemy; put 
More confidence in his enemy than in 
His wife! Ha! Angel that she should 

be and that she shall be, 
If my sound craft so set to sea, get but 
One other sail into the wind. I 
Must follow him; secure new oaths on 
him. 



Act II.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



19 



Have sundry lords say sundry things 

to him; 
Now, there's my course. My thoughts 

come quickly up. 
Lethington holds a spite at Rizzio, 
Who superseded him. Morton fears 

ruin 
At hands of Darnley, who claims the 

better right 
To his estate. I must to them each — 
And fan their fortunes to make hot my 

irons, 
And if I weld not there together a grap- 
ple-hook 
To spale a precipice, the more is my 
Opinion, I must set on some hubbub 
In the Court, with Darnley at its front 
And— so— mid clashing high the arms, 

perchance 
Some stray stroke touches with the 

Queen, for whose death, 
The commons hold Lord Darnley 

straight accountable. 
I must after him repeat my feign, and 

when 
She will look at him, I must repeat 

again. 



Scene II. A Room in the Palace. 

Enter Moray, Lethington and 
Melville. 

Leth. For days will speak to none, 
not even to 

His queen, but with such bad humor 
as lurks 

About his countenance, doth leer at her 

And point to her, — goes about the Court 
playing 

Hamlet — but yesterday struck breath- 
less 

Her foppish secretary who happened 
by. 

And would have killed him outright, 

too, but for 
The intervention of her lords, calling 

him 
Adulterer — deceitful— dog— devil, 
And such terms inappropriate. He is 
No more sane — why — than any lunatic. 
Melv. A pity is, my lords, that love 

can not listen — 
Indeed, her marriage was too much 

opposed 
With him; and clearly, too, was pointed 

out 
To her, by Moray, now a fugitive, 
The frailties of this foppish boy. 

Mor. Now, as 

You speak of Moray, I'm touched. I 

have known 



Him out of childhood— from my in- 
fancy, — 
And love him as my life. He 's a noble 

man, 
As by my soul's sentiment, he is, — 
Apt statesman, far-seeing as the eagle, 

and never 
Dove so much protected was as her 
Sweet majesty — 

Leth. Before she shoo'd him off 

The country. 

Melv. He should be pardoned to 

Return if any man. 

Mor. It so should be 

Suggested to the queen. It would be 
A well thing for her most ill present. 

[Exit. 
Enter Darnley. 

Darn. Ah! How much miraculous 

are the things 
Of life, and for certain who has premises 
Beyond the grave, who lives, that dying, 

would not 
Live again, and living, would not die 
By time. I've seen the rose, far fairer 

than 
My love, grow from the earth and to 

the earth 
Bow down its head. The lily kissed by 

morning 
Dews crushed by rude pilgrimage. Me 

thought 
It too, great Nature sighed at this, 

and as 
I leap'd from off my charger there, to 

lift 
It to my breast, it faded fast, sank down 
Its head — down — died, uncomely died. 
And then I sought, in vain sought to 

restore 
Its purity of white. It still was in 
My hands, but what was charming was 

forever 
Gone. My thought was — Mary, then 

Mary— Mary- 
More lovely, aye, than lily dipped in 

dew. 
This flower is mine; — her chastity is 

flown. ' 
As garment stained with blood, so even 

such is character 
Smeared with dishonor. The one water 

will cleanse 
But the other, time with all its tides 

will not 
Wash clean again. She comes! She 

comes! 

Enter Queen Mary. 

Q. Mary. He still 
Is so! how strange! and, too. suddenly, 
what is 



20 



KING DARNLEY. 



Act II. 



Upon him come! Pvigh! 'tis nothing— 

his humor. 
Rascally men give us pain (as they 
Do say of it), so to make up again. 
My lord, you are unwell to-day, and for 
These many days you Ve suffered. 
[ Carresses him. 

Where is your trouble? 
In your brain? Your head aches? 

Harry, does 

[JIc looks angrily at her. 
It ache? Why, Henry, are you changed? 

These eyes, — 
My jewels were not so rare but yester- 
day, 
That now are hot and swollen up as 

balls of fire 
Too much consume their loveliness, — 

my lord! 
Oh tell me! Can you tell the awful 

crime 
I have committed? If you shall say 

I've wronged 
You of a pin, so much — a wish, or 

slighted 
One brief moment of your pleasure 

ever, 
I stand accountable — beholden to you. 
I. O. U. to pay twice ten thousand 
Times that same amount, or, if I 've 

kissed 
You not enough— Harry— or, if too 

much, 
I shall feel sorry, and content me then 
To look at you. Why such silence keep? 
My lord! Words spoken out, if harsh 

words, are 
A pang, but if reserved to be looked 

from out 
The eves, they are more painful ever. 

Oh. 
If I have said or done, or ever thought 

To do [He aims to strike her. 

I defy you 

[^1 pause — kisses him. 
—with my love. 
This day but twelve month you were 

Harry Darnley, 
To-day you are a king, and by promo- 
tion, 
The lord of all that you may look upon. 
Have you no gratitude for things like 

these? 
Or have I broken your heart— both aud 

mine? 

That I did love A hair! 

\_Find8 a hair upon his shoulder. 

What! 

rascal, do you . 
Red-heads seek? 

\_Sl"j"< him playfully. 
'Tis but a hair, yet, 



If into water thrown 't would grow a 

serpent 
To twine, to twist, to animate, aye. too, 
If in the dewey sea of love it so 
Would grow and so prolific would it 

bring forth 
Reptiles there that all the countless 

venom 
Of the earth would nothing brook to it. 
Wolflike doubting, foxlike trusting, 

hissing — 
Hearing and heinous doting. There, 

thou hair, 

[Throws it in the pre. 
Better there than in my heart. What 

did you with 
That hair found on last night with 

rev'ling, or in 
The wiue that made you drunk? What 

did you with 
That hair? Or be 't now menagerie of 
Your thought? 

[Retires to the door. 
Harry! Lord of Scot- 
land! Lord 
Of my life! Come! 

[Darnley follows her, 
they embrace. Exit. 

Enter Moray. 

Mor. Now there is metal 

By my soul, to stand with Helen and 
To fall with Troy, that heart of his, 

gulped with 
Tts blood, at every babble out his angel's 
Lips, or look from her transcendent 

eye, 
He's insane to think of it! That lips, 

that eyes 
Could look so, speak so, out of guilt. 
Oh! he's mad, damn dangerous, too, 

believing her other 
Than pure as very Heaven, and I who 

set 
This [thing about and up and on but 

now 
To view it in its operation, 
I, what villain I, to thus descant, 
Design, dissemble in disguise, as some 
Foul worm that creeps into and habits 

flowers, 
Viewed from my habitation and unseen, 
And so, to be worn a nosegay aud in 

about 
The breasts of courtly gentlemen, — 

ambitious, — 
So ambitious as to out these hearts, 

the ■one 
From out the other, that God hath 

join'd, and too, 
God worked a miracle to breed the 

likeliest. 



Act II.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



21 



Knowledge, —that no man hath, that I 

have not 
So much; to know what is; and what is 

right 
From wrong. Wise! -prodigious wise, 

and most 
Profusely perverse. Nature hath thus 

made 
Of me the true example, a mind without 
A heart; to prove again that soul hath 

kingdom 
In the hearts of men. 

Scene III. A Hall in the Castle. 

Enter Moray hastily. 

Mor. He struck her. Ha! well now, 
by Heaven, but that 
Was gritty of him, too— 

Enter Melville. 

Good time of 
day 
Unto my Lord, and the King his maj- 
esty? 
I hope you shall report him better 
If not well. 

Melv. Well nigh a madman if not 

That altogether. 

M . He does not then, 

you say, 
Improve? 
Melv. Struck his queen most sav- 
agely in 
The face this very morning. 

Mor. Of all the 

devils 
That have yet been talked about, now 

as by my God, 
That was a felon's action. 
Melv. It was a 

madman's 
Deed, yet, after all, he seems not mad, 
Commands high; speaks plausibly 'pon 
any subject, — 
Mor. Trades no horses? 

Melv. None as I hear about — 
Mor. Then, damn'd, but he is wise 
enough; there's something 
On his mind. Perchance he later will 
Disclose, that lips articulate more 

plainly 
Out than looks. 
Melv. Has aught been hinted 

of? 
Mor. Such as I hear but dare not 

speak about. 
Melv. It shall have heart 

with me, good sir, not tongue. 
Mor. Then it is this way, as I'm 

told — her intimacy 

Melv. Her inti- 

macy, WITH WHOM? 



Mor. [Whispers in his ear.] With her 
husband. 
Foul wag shall you not jest a bit? 
Melv. Your 

jesting 
Would be better if in place and not 
To touch upon such sacred things. 
Mor. Now, that is so. But, to be 
more practical, 
How of her brother Moray, his return? 
Melv. With such fear as occupied 
my heart 
Of her displeasure of 't, I so abandoned 
It, resigning hope of it. — 

Mor. Is not 

This place exceeding and unpleasant 

warm? 
Let's to the garden. I like the out-door 

air. 
It is not so cornered as — a— sermon — or 
A sin. Thank God for liberty. 

Enter Darnley in a side- chamber. 

Darn. Ah, 

What uncouth and perjured is the 

heart, 
To let lips kiss what love would not 

make idol of, 
Lust is this, yet lust and love go hand 
In hand, for where shall we find one of 

these, 
The other not, with wedding sacredly? 
And how the brain teems with damned 

things, that it 
Would execute through functions car- 
nally. 
What servant body is of brain! that 

faith, 
That hope, that lust, that larceny, each 

virtue 
Else or vice existing, are each compon- 
ent 
And compounded in the fair round 

capsule 
Of the brain, and how they beautify 
And how dissemble, feature, face and 

character. 
How, as lily and the rose, the weed, 
The nettle, blooming side and side and 

nursed 
By nature similar. The rose is beauty, 
Yet, is in the nettle found apothecary, 
Which, if administered to, will cleanse 

disease, 
So is the soul so natural as out 
Of matter shall proceed the actions of 
The man. Ay, yet, but what is love 

and what 
Is virtue more that than these men 

rather life 
Would sacrifice, and what if anything, 
Is ever so contemptible as one 
Of these where is the other not. — To do 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act II. 



With him if fair were not so strange, if 

weak 
Of purpose or impotent I, but firm 
In this and too as by her complimented, 
That thereupon she seek deformity 
Is more the vicious I must resolve 

against her — 
Resolve, as if set upon by some vora- 
cious 
Wolf, who in attack on me, did seize 
Upon my very entrails— tear her from 

thence, 
If with her come my vitals forth, stand 
Before her; stand! as element before 
The thunderbolt, pierced through, and 

instantly 
The same to be again. Hate her I 

love — 
Yet hating her, I love the fonder. Oh 
Thou damn'd perdliugof my heart that 

cries 
For her and praises her and thou most 

fouler ' 
Fancy of my brain, that nurses with 
The futile fondness of my love. Love, 
Angel that transforms a beast, lamb 
That so devoured becomes the monster 

that 
Did feed on thee, thou that conspires 

this day — 
With hope to anchor me upon the 

bosom bent 
Of all perdition. Oh! what miraculous 

clo.ding 
Of the brain is love, that reason shines 

not in, 
But kissing peaks strike through the 

veil at what 
Is man beneath; and yet is sunshine 

there 
If happiness but look upon the scene. 
'I he every rose, the every flower, eyes 
The skies, blue or dark, a million orbits 
Twinkling, and in a man's bold heart, 

the dews 
Mount up to these, where swaying 

lilies strike 
The cheek, and kiss the upturned lips 

again. . , 

Sumptuous as heavens where men seek 

happiness. 
Less fair Diana, worshipped as the God. 
[Darnley. while speaking 

sinks to tht floor. 
\_An apartment adjoining. 
Enter Queen Mary, Rizzio, Maids, 
Akqyle and other Gentlemen, also 
Throckmorton, tht English Em- 
basiador. 
Maid. Try, my lady, to forget, 'tis 

but 



His humor that soon must pass. 

Q. Mary. But 

what can be 
His heed. 
Gent. He is not mad, we trust, and 
'twill 
Not long endure. 
Arg. There is a leak some- 

how 
In the heart, that little kindnesses 
And courtesies will not All to over- 
flowing. 
Throckmorton. Your Highness, 'tis 
said also of sympathy, 
That children cry for it, and we English 

find it 
Skillful ever to starve a dog that 's lost 
Its appetite. 
Q. Mary. As Knox would say, in 
augry 
Moment spoken, a fool is better born 
A fool than fool of wisdom, for, if a fool 
We note him presently and pass him by, 
But, if put on with outward and im- 
posing 
Quality, w-e wed with that the other 
To experience. Oh, is there bitter 
In another thing that I must now 
Regret the hour that I did marry, but 
I loved, and that so foolish in a queen. 
Maid. You could have spoused the 

King of Denmark. 
Q. Mary. Ay, truly 

Lords, but is 't not said, who in the 

world 
Has not at some time looked from what 

they are 
To what they might have been? 

Throck. Your 

Highness, there is 
A rule that touches all affliction. 
Q. Mary. And 

that? 
Throck. Made the best of— is the 

worst repaired. 
Q. Mary. That is a sober 

thought— a sober thought. 
They sad become that sadness look 

upon. 
And, too, when hope lifts anchor, life 

drjfts but 
To the wrecking place. Call in my 

minstrels. They lose 
Their wits that brood where melan- 
choly sits. 
Maid. My lady, we have pre- 

pared a sweet diversion, 
Before you here to be enacted; a brain- 
less 
Farce, entitled, " Jealousy of Birds." 
Q. Mary. Up to this time I had not 
thought that birds 
Were ever so, yet it is possible, 



Act III.] 



KING DARNLEY. 
t 



23 



IE even they prefer a liking. 
Enter Melville. 

Melville, 
My faithful counsellor. 

[Melville kneels, kisses h( r hand. 
Melv. Your majesty, 

It has occurred to me and too, to other, 
Gentlemen, that, in view of your con- 
dition, 
(Which — I pray you pardon me, is some- 
thing 
Delicate; and, too, much in danger), 

there being 
Present none among our nobles to 

guard 
You privately, none kindred unto you, 
Therefore, and by such reasoning, 

prompted (I 
Suggest, if however so denied), the 

pardon 
Of your brother, Earl Moray, the which 

1 give 
You time with patience to reflect upon. 
Q. Mary. It shall be — considered. 

[Exit Melville. 
[Sweet music. A gong without. 
Enter bird-dancers from opposite 
directions ; perform a circuit of 
the stage and approach the foot- 
lights. Sing. 

1st Bird. There was held a festival, 

From the sparrow to the gull, 
In a forest by a river run- 
ning free, 
Where sped the merry rills, 
O'er the pebble pearled hills, 
Running gubble, wubble, 
wubble, to the sea. 

2rf Bird. And neath the sun's array 
Upon that happy day, they 

say 
That in a quiet way, 
The robin flirted with the jay. 



1st Bird. And the wren, his prettv wife 
Was flirting for her life 
With the big, blue seagull 
from the sea. 

2d Bird. And the owl was sittin' still 
Winkin' at the whip-poor- 
will, 
An' sort o' studying the rill, 
As it ran along the hill. 

[Exeunt birds. 

Mary. [Sorrow ftdly.] How like the 
gay and frivol scenes of France! 
Lovely France. 

[Rizzio sings "Isle of Beaut g." 

Darn. Hark! what— hark! 

He charms her but with song, 

The silence that precedes what is about 

To come, Oh! thou God, if curses shall 

Be looked for — the impostor Devil — 

such 
As kills him in a man's mortality, 
But make him love! and make her 

guilty that 
He loves. What sound? Hark! Hark! 

Oh, thou 
Damned criminal of noise, thou creak- 
ing, guilty 
Evidence— they are about it— hold, 
Thou devils, hold. 

[Bursts into the Queen's presence. 

Q. Mary. My lord— 

Darn. Mad! not 

mad. 
I am unwell to-night. 

[The Queen stoops over him while 
the nobles stand about and regard 
him haughtily. 

[Bird- dancers re-enter, and observe 
him, in attitudes of retreat. 



ACT III. 



Scene I. An Out Door Scene. 
Enter Moray excitedly. 

Mor. Now, I have him fairly on the 

track again, 
The words, I put in Morton's mouth, 

got 
Well home to him, and Lethington is in 



Upoxt the scent. They are my instru- 
ments, 
And, too, I have good Ruthven out of 

bed, 
And pawing at the elements. I must go 
Excite the other nobles, and, as fruits, 
Best gathered in their season, so must 

I pick 
My opportunities off. 'Tis not a little 



24 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act III. 



Dangerous. I must as a bird— alert, 
And keep my wings about me, and if 

this 
Last nest I set upon hatch not out— 
Ifly- 

Enter Darnley. 

Darn. I find you apt and more a 
friend 
Than is my love. 

Mor. Well now, that is 

most well 
Intended indeed; but that a man's 

love is 
So much his enemy ever, when he will 

lack 
A friend in his wife's honor. I there- 
fore feel 
Myself less praised than perjured after 

all. 
But what if anything is said to you? 
Darn. Lord Lethington hath put an 
epigram 
Into mine ear, that seems a year in its 
Explosion. 
Mor. Indeed! not Lethington! 

Darn. I did say 't, 
Lethington. 

Mor. He is so wise 

A man. And lofty headed, honorable; 
I tho't he would not so look down at it. 
Darn. Too, and Morton said to me 
with seeing Rizzio 
Ride my palfrey (which looked the 

monkey 
At the penny show), that Italian plebe- 
ians 
Rode finer mares than Scottish noble- 
men, 
And, as he fixed his look on me, I could 
Have fallen. You heard him say it, 

too, I noted you, 
That you something said to him. 
Mor. I saw 

by his 
Expression what was on his mind, and 

sought 
In vain to stay 't on his lips, but out 
It came pell-mell despite my interfer- 
ence. 
Darn. I observed that in your coun- 
tenance as you something said to him; 
it was sarcastic, too. 

Mor. Indeed, it was a pious cut of 
him. Did you seek the crown as yes- 
terday we talked? 

Darn. That she did grant straight- 
way. Proclaimed me king from out the 
horn, thrice at the market place. 

Mm-.. Woman's a cymbal, sweet to 
sound, but hollow, and it shall have 
effect on you, as ever it is understood 
that gifts will humble gratitude. But 



as they say of it, where there is smoke, 
there is fire always; and, as for my part, 
I have never seen something come out 
of nothing in the whole course of my 
life. 

Dam. There is something in it. 

Mor. Something? my liege. 

Darn. Yes, true; all too true, too, 
and in her impregnate state. 

Mor. That is the most ugly thing 
about it all; tho' men be animals, 
women should not their worst example 
be. 'Tis the stronger evidence of the 
drug. 

Darn. I can not longer hold my 
hands from out his throat. 

Mor. Do not so, the way is made for 
his departure with my whetstone. 

Dam. Have you informed the Lords 
Argyle and others? 

Mor. I have not 'pon my virtuous 
soul, not that; it is unsafe, by heaven, 
is the truth. The devil gets so much 
into our clothes in these days that we 
can scarce get into them ourselves; no 
room for honest men or honest women. 
As goes the paradox: If dishonest 
women were not such falsifiers, a man 
could believe an honest woman honest; 
and, too, and in the estimation of the 
practicalist, that man who is continu- 
ally humming about his own virtues and 
crying out against the vices of others, 
is the very man we ought to keep an 
eye on in this world. I have not spoken 
to Argyle, that you must do yourself. 

Dam. I seek them out; when shall 
we make descent on him? 

Mor. It is not determined. 

Darn. Make 't not later than tonight, 
or thereupon I do 't myself. 

Mor. Will you not taste with me? 

[Offers flask, Darnley drink* 
S( vt /■'// draughts. 

Mor. [Aside.]— Drinks like any fish, 
amphibious, lives in it. 

Darn. This day she pardons Moray 
to return, and that Moray is a black- 
hearted, designing scoundrel. 

Mor. And he is nothing better. I 

know him well; he is my mother's son. 

[Exit Darnley. 

Mor. How cracked and broken are 

his sentences, 
With mixed conglomeration of his 

tho't; 
How sad, indeed! So wise a boy was 

not 
In all of his dominions, of and such 

princely 
Turn, with beauty so unremarkable. 



Act III.] 



KING DAENLEY. 



25 



That see him, the sculptors would criti- 
cise 

Their work, and, if so set 'mong them, 
the gods 

Would fly from off their stone pedes- 
tals. 

Such curving lips and keen contest- 
ing eyes, 

Lost to their beauty, and now, God help 
him, as 

I noted it, his raven locks are growing 
fas.tly gray. 

A boy; a boy of twenty, yet, has he 

Many faults withal. Proud to excess, 

And overbearing; wise, knowing it, 
and of 

The turn to teach the world and not be 
taught. 

I must have him out the way; 

He hating me, his will may do me harm, 

And as this world is but my wits' hotel, 

I keep him here — to wait upon the bell. 
\Exit Moray. 



Scene II. 
Enter Lord Argyle and Son. 

Young Argyle. The villain, as I am 
informed, hath put a charm on her. 

Arg. Ay, and what part 's assigned 
to you, about the killing of him? 

Young Argyle. Our guards, and 
whatsoever else I harness and bring 
forth in armour. 

Arg. I see it now, you are to harness 
other men, and by so doing make a 
halter for yourself. 

Be not rash; 'tis infirmity. 

Guard slanderers as vipers, wear not 
these about your neck neither permit 
them into your possession, as they are 
the enemies of all mankind you unex- 
cepted. 

Shape not your tongue to those as to 
repeat them is to assume them, thus 
you yourself cast off your honors to 
creep with them into the grass, in very 
sooth, a serpent. 

Find no distinction 'twixt thieves and 
liars; the one steals trash, the other 
truth, and spends the confidence of 
that that 's richest. 

Engage no pilot of thyself; men are 
to thine interests blind. They shores 
are, rocks are, and oft a floating reef; be 
at the wheel and not the keel; 

And set thee down Argyle like in 
good state, and watch the dogs of war 
to be not by these watched. 

Good living is a merry common- 



wealth. Live well; 'tis better than to 
die ill; 

The hound that hath the hare pur- 
sues it not, but vaults upon it where 
pursued. 

Be canny, keen and confident; 

Rather take a thousand marks than 
lose a thousand men: 

First that it be humanity; secondly, 
thus thou 'rt rich and save thy tenantry; 

Seek not the past as ruling of the 
present. 

Men were and are; yet are not to be. 
Time is a mortar; man 's a builder, and 
out of these comes each extremity. Thy 
grandsire's lance so mighty as thy purse, 
equip thy purse and be thou cap-a-pie. 

Honor dies with honesty (lives with 
men). Advantage here begins— be not 
too honorable, 'tis not the age. 

Glory seek not; that glory is a giant 
bubble, a barren mound, a snow-capped 
tomb. 

Seek not after glory, for poets die 
of such. 

Thou need'st must eat elsewhere if 
thou then wouldst be throned. Ova- 
tion of humanity! 

Have rather gold of power the price. 
Be not dependent, 'tis a hospital where 
men are cured and killed; be not de- 
pendent for when there thou 'rt subject 
to disease of every sort, and to so sundry 
treatment. 

Measure not time, neither by time be 
measured; 

Procrastination is the thief of fools. 

Be not stolen and out of bed, neither 
in bed; if either change thy name to 
donkey, as such must bear the pack of 
other's pomp and be betime a scav- 
enger. 

Be not overwise, but wise sufficient; 
the one brings wisdom, the other folly. 
Tarry not where idlers prate, as what 
they know adds nothing to your knowl- 
edge. 

Be wise! Live wise! and when thou 'rt 
dead thy wisdom will defend thy char- 
acter. 

Dispute fools with nothing but thy 
absence, and counsel with these in such 
sort. 

In people be not mistaken. Try what 
you buy. 'tis better that than buy to 
return. 

Hear friends and flatterers, and 
distinguish these in truth; 

And be not dupe of flatterers, as 'tis 
essential that thou should'st — be a man 
and not a woman; neither artful be as 
thus thou 'rt feminine; but be virtuous 



26 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act III. 



to be feminine, and honor women next 
to worship. 

Be not a viler of her sex and of her 
sins, as thus thou 'rt a common villain 
to envied be by hell that thou dost thus 
outvie hell here on earth. 

Love wrongs woman to excess to 
prove her downfall. 

Venuses may be and are, yet are only 
when men make them such 

Be not assassin of thy sister thus, 
that she do love you. 

Be temperate: that is to say be wise 
as possible; 

Be temperate with your habits that 
would need say; be temperate with your 
enemies; 

Be temperate with your friends. Ab- 
stain from what is intimacy, the more 
is less the wise; 

Wise concealment is a virtue. 

Put confidence in yourself first, then 
your friends; tell these nothing that 
you'd not have told; 

Find no relief revealing secret things, 
men have ears like women for this sort; 
go rather to the forest winds and belch 
thee forth. 

Prize another's confidence as sacred, 
it hath sacred claim 'pon your most 
sacred honor, rather do not have it; 

Duplicity in this makes wisdom cun- 
ning; a vessel, leaking fluid, receives 
no wine— be not leaky then of what 
thou hearest and purge thee to the 
night, rather than be drunk by its wits. 

Be not a drinker; that drinkers be the 
germs of drunkards; beware that thou 
grow not the dionaea thus to drown 
thy love. 

Be not without love; for as such thou 
art no longer man but beast. 

Be not overgreat in expectations that 
thou may'st have greater joy in smaller 
things, and thus be of contentment 
blessed. 

And last of all, — have character, for 
if others have it not, they do the more 
require of you. 

Enter Moray, Caithness, Morton 
and ot/u rs. 

Mor. And he calls our nobles such 

barbarians 
As he has seen remote from anywhere, 

and of 
Our ladies scoffs at them. He showed 

to me a 
Rhyme and read it with a sneer, which 

was 
Translated out Italian thus: 



" Five highest 'M's' 
That Scotland ne'er condemns 

Did at my chamber knock, 
And stole from thence the lock. 

I do 
Not understand what he could meant 
by that. 
Caith. Five highest "M's"; the 

Queen's name hath an " M." 
Mor. Well now by St. Paul, not that, 
yet God forbid, 

The king do say 

Mort. How! the king? 

Mor. I spoke. 
Too fast and meant not to betray an- 
other 
Confidence. 
Caith. How terms the king of 

this 
Vile practice? 

Mor. Says little that he thinks 

and buries 
All in tho't. 
Argyle. [Slapping Mor. on shoulder.] 
A novel feature in 
The king. Say you the king suspicions, 
And tell it so in confidence to thee? 
Mor. My lord, I said nothing that 
you said, but in 
Good sooth did say all that you heard. 

Kings 
And queens gossip not with subjects. 

Long live chaste Henry 
And his chaste queen. [Aside.] Ere 

Scotland's crown will press 
My brow my blade must reek with his 
sustenance. [Exit Mor. 

Eider Lindsay and Ruthven. 
Li r,d. How now, my lords, has ought 
been told you of the doings, 
Her doings? this base and papist liber- 
tine 
That rules the realm. Oh, if her (re- 
ligion) will 
Not liberate the devil yet, and set 
Him up in Heaven thro' its indulgences. 
I am so much a fool; when Pope, and 

priests 
May clear the conscience of adulterers 
And murderers, no virtue can be safe 
Out of a hiding place in all the broad 
Expanse of this wide world. 
Arg. Is there 

ascertained 
Proofs of her imperfections. 

Young Argyle. As we hear 

From every one, no reasonable doubt— 

Enter Parnley. after meeting 

Moray without. 
Dam. My suspicious locked into my 
heart and watched 



Act III.] 



KING DAKNLEY. 



27 



Carefully into the night; do throw light 
in 

Mine eyes that blinds me. 
Ruth. For God's 

sake gentlemen are 

We men at arms; religious 'pon our 
knees; 

Respectable into the eyes of God and 

Of mankind, yet suffer to exist 

This habit with our queen, that with 
her, leading 

Fashions will be next worn by 'r daugh- 
ters and 

Our wives. The shame face of this 
world, the root 

From which grows every evil up. 

Enter Moray. 
Lind. It is 

Enough to bring the curses down. 

Mort. We shall 
Not longer suffer it. 

Mor. Under foot 

With the Italian. 

Darn. Gentlemen, I am 

Your sovereign, and command you, 

each of you, 
To striae with me the villain Rizzio, 
dead. 
Mdr. 'T would make the better 

example if in her very presence 
It were done. 

Mart. If so executed, 

'T would be a juster judgment upon 
them both. 
Ruth. Then follow me. 

[Exit all but Argyle, his 
son, and Moray. 
Young Argyle. Shall we 

not accompany them? 
Arg. Not so 

rash, I like not the business. 

[Exit Argyle and Son. 
Mor. Now all is well, and if this 
wind blow softly on 
With pleasing easiness but for one in- 
stant 
More, we shall be under sail and all 
Aboard, except the captain and his 

mate, 
Who fall out— about the ridding of the 

rat — 
But I must to the van and lead the way, 
For should proud Lindsay see me thus 

delayed, 
A naked heart would sheath a naked 
blade. [Exit. 



Scene III. The Queen's Chamber. 
Queen Mary, Maids and Rizzio. 



Enter Darnley. Embraces Queen 
and kisses her. Queen returns 
embrace. 

Queen. Thanks be to God for the 
reunion of our hearts. 

Enter Ruth., clashing armor. 

Queen. [To Dar.] My Lord, what 

does this mean? Lord Ruthven 

you 
Too much offend to come into my pres- 
ence 
Armed deliberate without the leave 

you should 
Implore of me. You are not well and 

make, 
So, a mistake. We duly are informed 
That yesterday you were upon a sick 

bed, 
And to-morrow I had planned to visit 

you. 
You frighten me: will you not suffer, 

sir, 
To go from hence. I will send a guard 

As your escort 

Ruth. I have my guards 

about me, 

[Clashing armor. 
And, as for your fears, you may dis- 
miss them. 
You are as helpless and protected 's any 
Babe into its cradle fast asleep; 
For, if into this world there is a man 
Who dares to touch with you, he dies 

by me 
Or I in the attempt. Yes, I was sick 
As you say sick, sick to dying; but 
Upon my death-bed seeming as I lay. 
I there was well enough and strong 

enough 
To face the devil, or to thrust my rapier 
At the heart of any rascal in 
The realm. Fierce enough to face the 

flames 
That claim the mother and the child. 

To rescue 
Bold enough, or brave enough to die. 
Yes, disease was in upon my veins, 
And had so much contracted these as to 
Impede my blood from its great course, 

but even 
There I hurled death from me as I lay 
( 'Pon hearing of your plight), and 

begged God 
For an hour that I might rid the world 
Of your disease, and as God lives I 

swear, 
He dies. 

Queen M. Who dies? 

Ruth. Rizzio dies. 

Queen M. Oh! you 



28 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act III. 



Are mad. What has Rizzio done? 
[Cries without " A Douglas, a Doug- 
lax." Clashing of arms. 

Enter Morton at head of Guards, 
accompanying Moray. Lething- 
ton, Lind. and others. 
Riz. Your majesty protect me. 

[Queen places herself between 
guards and Rizzio. 

Queen M. Stop I say, cowards, cul- 
prits, hold. 

\_To Gentlemen. 

Stand back, gentlemen, I command you, 
back, 

Or I shall brand you traitors all and 
have 

You reft of your fair titles and your 
lands. 

How dare you to set foot into this 
chamber, and by 

Whose right, authority, come you here. 
Mart. Your highness, 

By authority of your husband, Darnley. 
Queen M. Judas! Is this the mean- 
ing of your kiss? 

Stand back I say, back each of you— 
your conduct 

Thus far I excuse, but if one step 
farther 

Any here shall take, he invokes upon 

His head the vengeance of the law. You 
dare 

Not to shed blood here in my presence, 
and there is not 

A man among you, if he will so im- 
peril 

My condition. Submit this Rizzio 

To trial, and if of whatsoever guilty 

Found if every flower in this land 

Shall peep its head and plead for 
him, I so 

Reject them all. 

Ruth. My lords, this is plain 

justice, 

And upon our perils v we abide by, it. 

[Moray stabs Rizzio bv( r 
tin Qm i n's shoulder. 

Mor. This is the blood of the kiug. 
Look to your lady. 
[Darn, srix>s Queen M., sht strug- 
gles, s'woons. Alt stilt) Rizzio "ml 
drag him from the chamber. Exit. 

[Re-enter Mor.. followed !>;/ Ruth., 
.M<>u. aims his bladi at Queen 
M. 's tin n.tt; Ruth?" beats asidt his 
weapon. 



Ruth. Hold, dog; what villain 

damned art thou. Take that. 

[Stabs at him. 
Rascal, I shall hack thee into mince. 
| Exit Mor., Ruth, follows him stag- 
gering. Ruth, sinks upon <i sofa 
ami expires. 

Enter Murderers. 

1st M. [Points at Ruth.] There's a- 
man. 

2<1 M. The man may be awake. 

1st M. Think you wide awake. 

\'il M. Well no, a man is never wide- 
awake; but like the owl sees after all. 
Shall we do the business? 

1st M. She is a pretty woman 

2d M. That holds of virtue, less than 
any a homely one — by the God, but she 
is sweet— and innocent as I have seen 
my child in its cradle smiling out its 
sleep. 

1st M. I wish I had not come 'bout it. 

2d M. But he will kill us if we fail 
to do 't. 

1st M. Then quickly shoot and I will 
stab. 

2d M. [Points a pistol.] My nerve's 
unsteady, shake as any knave. Put 
yonder cloth upon her face and I can 
do 't. 

[1st M. puts doth on her 
face, she awakes. 

Queen M. Who sent you here? 

2d M. Him that will us send to hell, 
Send we not thee to heaven? 

Queen M. The devil that you serve 
has no such mission. 

2d M. Not so. that he hath gi'en 't 
to us. [Aims pistol.] 

Queen M. Hold, ruffian! would you 
a mother and an infant murder? Be- 
gone! 

2d M. That I will; that you account 
me ruffian in my tho't; for had I not 
tho't, I, ruffian, would have been in ac- 
tion; but now that I do think, I'm 
ruffian in reflection. So villain do the 
deed and I'll be saint and pure, and 
covet thy existence. '[Exit 2d M. 

1st M. This devil, in reflection, do 
point my thinking to get him in and 
get me out; so get thee in that out I 
get. [Plunges knife in sheath. Exit. 



Scene IV. Scene at foot of stairway. 

Mor. If they will plead with her 
she '11 charm the hearts out o' their 



Act III.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



29 



carcasses. Curse them! Do they not 
dispatch? 

[2d M. runs down stainoay ; 
Mor. stabs him. 

Enter 1st M. at Ik<i</ of stairs; 
turns to fly. 

Mor. Hold! I have killed the vil- 
lain, that he did not execute. Go you 
about it straight [throics him a bag of 
gold], and his part also shall be yours. 
1st M. 1 have no sword. 
Mor. Then take my blade. 
[Hands him his sword point first-; 
murderer reaches for sword; Mor. 
stabs him, shoots him with 2d M. 
pistol, stabbing 1st M. knife into 
2d M. : throws off his disguise ap- 
pearing in garb of Lord Moray. 



Scene V. The Queen's Chamber again. 

Shouts without. Enter DARNLEY. 
Morton, Lethington, Lindsay, 
and others. 

Mori. The city 's up and in a tumult 
and if 
We fail to satisfy the Provost we need 
Must fight our way into escape. 

Enter Provost below, and followers. 

Prov. Third time 

And last, and at this window I demand 
The presence of the queen, which, if 

denied, 
I fire the castle thereupon, and in 
The name of God and my allegiance 
So perish all within. 

Queen M. I'll speaV to him. 

[Morton hurls her back. 
Mort. Hold thy peace! If thou shalt 
make outcry, or breathe 
One other word above a whisper, I 
Will stab you to the heart. 

Dam. I silence him. 

Provost of Edinburgh, do you not know 
That I am king of Scotland? 

Prov. Your 

royal highness, 
Upon such outcry as has widely spread 
About the town, touching with your 

safety 
And the safety of our sovereign, 
We here assemble to do as you com- 
mand. 
Darn. I command you then disperse, 
also to 
Report the thing that here you manifest 
As manifestly false. 



Queen M. Is this my husband 

Speakiny? 
Prov. I trust, my liege, that no 

offense 
Unpardonable "s offered you, by this 
Our prudent action, and hope that her 
Sweet majesty our sovereign's, repose, 
Is not disturbed by such loud clamors 

of alarm 
As has 'roused to a man the city. We 

go at your command, 
And about the streets disperse the 

gatherings. [Exit. 

Leth. Well done, as 1 have 

seen an ass 
Do wonderful. [Exit Lords. 

Queen M. O, God of Heaven! what 
If anything will follow here upon. 
Before the blow so final that shall stay 
My life, and with it end my race from 

its 
Career. Is Bruce in Heaven, Robert 

Bruce, 
And there beholds to look upon his 

daughter. 
Last of all his lineage, ay, yet 
Assumes no shape to come in my de- 
fense. 

Enter Maid. 

Maid. Huntley and Bothwell are 

in upon the court 
Below in deadly combat with the 
guards. 
Queen M. Bothwell and Huntley 
are not my friends. 

Enter Both., kneels. 
Both. Xame but 

that man you would have die. 
And I will perish him, or he will I. 

[Curtain falls — curtain rises. 

Enter Huntley. 
Hunt. 'Pon hearing that a dove was 

so assailed 
By vicious vultures here, we made our 

way 
Through yonder guard and to the res- 
cue. And I assure you that there 
Is not a passion in the Huntley's heart 
That would not spurn at him if he will 

fail 
To stay the foremost man of them; and, 

if in 
This laud, stands up a coward I put not 

down 
At your command, then call me brag 

and not 
Till then. [Huntley kneels. 

Queen M. Brave noblemen; but, are 

your forces here? 
Both. Unfortunate our visit is un- 

martialed. 



30 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act III. 



Our followers so far remote as Aber- 
deen, 
But our horses stand upon the street 
Impatient and in readiness, 

[ Takes a ropt from about his waist. 

And with 
This rope to yonder shutter fast, we let 
You safely down. 

Queen M. But the guards? 

Botli. and Hunt. The 

guards? 
Queen M. Will stay us. 
Hunt, and Both. Stay us? 

Both. Huntley. 
Hunt. Bothwell. 

Both. Fear not, we go below. Their 
main forces we have passed 'pon enter- 
ing. They are not a hundred, and 
there's not a dozen Douglasses among 
them. They are mostly clustered at 
the doors and others are about the 
premises, and such of them as we fall 
in with we will be upon them, and re- 
ceive you. 

Queen M. You are as lions, and un- 
taught by men. 
Yet lions ever so beset by odious odds, 
Have fallen 'neath their enemies re- 
joice. 
Hunt. And so my father fell and 

my brothers fell. 
Queen J f. Huntley; oh, 

my injured nobleman 
And, thou brave Bothwell too, trans- 
ported by 
My hands. Where has my heart been 

all these years? 
From men who suffered ruin and dis- 
honor's 
Darts, to kneel to me when most 1 

needed 
Friends. 
Both. We blame not innocence, but 
know 
The source from which proceeds of- 
fense. Fear you 
Descent? 

Queen M. My valiant lord, I nothing 
fear, 
But know it is unpopular. There is 
One prudent course. To the highlands 

go, raise your clans, return 
With them and I will make you men of 
men. 

Enter Darnley. 

Dam. What does this intrusion 
mean? 

Both, The righting of the one begun 
by you, my lord, which imperils not 
alone your person, but the life and 
liberty of her high majesty, our sover- 



eign, and there is not of marriage sir,, 
a sacred office, which is not intruded 
by your action; neither a civil one of 
courtesy that has not been walked upon 
by every rascal that rebelled with you. 
They are so many beasts and out of 
latitude, so many rogues and about the 
making of the law; so many Jacobs 
and for your birth-right, they'll give to 
you a mess of pottage, and as your 
birth-right sir, is not the crown of 
Scotland, but your life only, they so 
must execute; they are a hoard of hell 
hounds bent 'pon murder and rapine; 
abandon them; look to your wife, her 
safety, and your own, for if their con- 
duct here be taken in account, there is 
not a man in all of them. 

Darn. Whom shall I say 't their ac- 
cuser be? 

Both. Tell them Lord Bothwell told 
it thee. 

[Exit Bothwell and Huntley. 

[Queen M. looking Darxley out of 
countenance^ meantime enter Mor- 
ton and conspirators. 
Mort. We shall abduct her; she must 
be in a dungeon locked, close 
guarded, 
Carried bodily to Leith and there im- 
mured. 
Lindsay. The course 

Is perilous, danger lurks in every 
Avenue. The every street 's a sea 
Of human life. 

Mort. [To his captain.'] Go you about 
the town, 
Seek out the safest route by which we 

may 
Escape; have horse in readiness and be 
Anon prepared. 

Capt. I will, my lord. 

[Exit captain. 
Mort. Meantime 

Gentlemen, let's to the council hall 
For with this project we shall stand or 
fall. 

[Exeun t Conspirators. 

[Exit Darnley. 

Queen M. [Following DAkNLE? with 

her eyes.] O, would that thou 

wer't even so a man; 

As thou ait cowardly, but so brave, as 

fierce 
As false and as thou 'rt very false, but 

half 
That honorable, heroic and entire, 
So thou art a man, ay, too, and of 
Thy beauty but forsaken as even thou 
Art fair. That venomous things do not 
deceive 



Act III.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



31 



The sight, but out their hideous shapes 

look but 
The thing they are. I would that 

Moray's lord 
Were here again. Him whom I hated 

that 
He cursed you; him, who, at our mar- 
riage raised, 
Insurrection up against you. 

[Moray enters. 
Mor. They say: speak o' 

the devil, he '11 appear. 
Queen M. My lord— 

my brother. 

They embrace, Moray kneels, (and 
history soys of it, he cries). 
Mor. I, from my kindred sent 

Have spent these days in dreary soli- 
tude, 

This world's most wide expanse, so 
aired by its 

Ineffable surroundings, was to me still 

A dungeon place. Its vapors con- 
stantly 

Upon me; yet with weeping and with 
praying 

I was ever with you; but now to know 

Of it,-— this lamentable, this heavy ac- 
tion, 

This criminal, rebellious and revolting 

Crime here perpetrated, and by your 
husband 

Boy set on, 'pon hearing, that I thought 

My heart would split, as any thun- 
der-bolt 

And fly at him. 
Queen M. For his conduct thus far 
put to no excuse, 

He is the more in danger, meantime, 

And as I swear by Heaven, to vest in 
you 

The powers you once enjoyed, I do 
beseech 

Of you to place some manner of restraint 

Upon these outlaws that accompany 
with 

My lord. 
Mor. But there 's, your highness, 
where my fears 

Arise; they'll not obey me, I, at 

This time am but an outlaw, stripped 
of all 

Authority. 

Queen M. God knows, too well, all 
things 

I do will turn but to my shame. Oh, 
had 

I for you sent an hour but sooner, this 

Could not so have happened. 
Mor. Your majesty. 

An hour's delay, has turned upon the 
heads 



Of men their hair to gray. I go— for 

you, 
To do if aught is in my power to do. 
[Exit Moray. 

Enter St want hastily. 

Ser. God be merciful, madam, the 
murderers hold conference in yonder 
chamber. I overheard; you and your 
household they plan to carry bodily 
into captivity. 

Enter Darnley and kneels before 
the Queen. 

Darn. My heart might break as now 
I see my fault. 
This is a damned intrigue for both our 

lives; 
Each word I speak is loudest hissed by 

men 
Who yesterday proclaimed me king. 

Queen M. Then seek 
Some certain means of our escape. 

[Exit Darnley. 

Re-enter Morton and captain. 

Mort. Are horse 
In readiness? 
Capt. They are, my lord, and 

hitched 
About the portico. 

Mort. How 's the watch? 

Are any humans moving? 

Capt. My lord, the 

city 's 
Hushed; our guards repose upon their 

arms 
And sentries tread stealthy to and fro. 
Mort. Go once more about the prem- 
ises. If all 
Is well arouse the guard; we seize 
The household and escape. 

[Queen M. overhears the 
conversation. 
[Exit Morton and captain. 

Enter Darnley, fingers upon 
his /ij'S. 

Darn. The guard 's asleep 
Their horses stand about the gate- 
quietly — 
Each follow me. 

[All exit. A moment interval. 
Shouting without, sounds of 
horses' hoofs galloping away. 

Enter Moray and lords upofi the 
stage in great confusion. 

[Curtain. 



32 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act III. 



Scene VI. Outside a Cabin near Edin- 
burgh. Present, Queen Mary, Darn- 
ley, Arthur Erskine and the queen's 
maids. 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. We must make from this 
place, the rebel force 
From Edinburgh high in pursuit of us, 
Who, by a cause unknown to me passed 

by 
Us on the left, have yonder there with 

banished 
Foes from England here returning, met, 
Joined confederacy, and as an Alpine 
Avalanche, descend upon us. 

Darn. Our horses 

Graze between us and the foe. 

Queen M. Oh, have 

We as some poor, weak, wounded prey, 

fled from 
The dogs, but to the fiercer enemy. 
Darn. We can not now hope to 

escape. 
Ar. Erskine. With 
Your Majesty's most fair consent, we 

first 
Are to be shot at; we collect about 
You here, and, in God's name, defend 

you to 
The last. 

Queen M. Erskine brave, if nature had 
But made you up in body as in spirit, 
We then might be defended by ycu 

well; 
But that God man made, and made 

man not so great 's 
To cope with hica— kneel to God and 

let 
It be as God requires. 

\_T/i< y kind. Shouting without. 
Knter Servant. 
Serv. Thanks be to fortune saved. 
Queen 31. Saved? 

Serv. Huntley and Bothwell 

Ten thousand spears surge down the 

valley before you. 
The rebel foe are scattered in retreat, 
And like cbaff before the wind are car- 
ried with 
Their fear. 

[The curtain falls; cheering and 
rushing of In uses is heard with- 
out, and the curtain rises "-it// 
Huntley and Bothwell on their 
knees before the queen. Moray; 
enters and also kneels before the 
queen. Huntley and Bothwell 
rist and regard "Moray in atti- 
tudes of defiance. 



Moray. From Edinburgh I am come 
To kneel here at your mercy. Your 

pardon sent me, 
Reached me out in England where I lay, 
Which pardon, same, pro vised to rein- 
state 
In favor and in former power your 

most 
Unworthy brother, I. And this was 

generous 
Uncalled for, too; for had you said it, I 
Had come a suppliant, 'pon hearing of 
The dangers that surrounded you. For 

when 
Edinburgh I reached in safety 
Twas there that awful sounds of mur- 
der filled 
My soul; those of revolt most terrible, 
An insurrection, aimed, and as I am 
Informed, to snatch your crown, which 

threatened 
You both and your capital, and nigh 
You lost your life by it. Led, as the 

rebels 
Misinform me, by your own husband, 
Darnley. 

[The queen gives Darnley 
a witht ring look. 

There you promised me, for my assist- 
ance, 
(Which I rendered faithfully) 

henceforth, 
And ever, to protect me. If of the 

mind 
You still are, let it be, if not proclaim 
My penalty. 

Queen M. Gentlemen, my brother, 
Speaks but what is true. His pardon, I 
Have granted it, and what thereto was 

promised, I 
Maintain. Rise Earl Moray. 

I foray. So— but let 

It still be further understood, the cause 
Of my rebellion. To England I 
Was banished for offense most grevious 
For 1 did raise an army up against you, 
Fearing, as I did, your marriage 
With our cousin. I thus resorted to 
A strategy, your marriage to prevent, 
No more. The all of which I now 

confess, 
Was in me foolish if not wrong; but I 
Did see, or thought I saw in him, 'mong 
His better qualities, ambitious look, 
Intemperance and irreverence, and 

such like 
Faults, and fearing he might 'tempt to 

gain' 
Your crown by some improper meth- 
ods, 1 
So did act and so confess. 



Act HI.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



33 



Queen M. My brother, 

You are wise. Lord Darnley speak, 

fori 
Have thought it; that you did seek, 

and villains did 
Employ, to murder me, that you your- 
self 
Might reign; if this be false, why — your 

conduct, 
Sir, explain. 
Darn. God knows of it, the 

charge, I'm innocent. 
Queen M. What led 

you then to this 
Extreme? Why did you murder Rizzio? 
What 's your plea? 

Darn. I'm sworn to 

silence; and 
I must not say. 

Queen M. [In tears.] Then I should 
hang you, but 
I send you free, go — as your penalty 
Ne'er show your face again to me. 

(Exit Darnley. 

Men are 

Rewarded for their deeds achieved, as, 

for 
Their crimes, reverses come to them. 

. Thank God 
An apex in my reign has come where, by 
The spite of rivalry, Scot's noblest sons 
No longer suffer. Lord Huntley hence- 
forth [Huntley kneels. 
Bearer of my sword of state. Lord 
Bothwell — [Both, kneels. 
General of my army. 

[Moray kneels also. 
Hunt. God aid me to 

Do right 's my prayer. 

Mor. And aid me 

that I right 
Much wrong, pray I. 
Both. My heart too full 

for utterance is, 
Silent with' my breast; but one thing on 

it 
Well depend, while serving you no 

friend 
Shall from you go, and harmed by me; 

no foe, 
Shall leave me to depart. 
Mor. Amen. 

Queen M. God bless 

You each, and I am happy in confer- 
ment 
Of lofty offices 'pon honest men. 
One only thing disturbs my present 

peace; 
Long has existed here between you 

peers 
A hate in each and for the other felt, 
3 



For at sight one of the other you seem 
shocked; 

And anger's clouds crowd deep upon 
the brow; 

Looks sharply flash and point at others' 
hearts — 

God bless you, brave and good and 
valiant men; 

But 'gainst resentment, I beseech you, 
war, 

Once conquered, 'tis a victory achieved, 

Lord Bothwell, take my brother's hand. 
Both. Ten years 

Are past since Huntley fell. Aristides, 

Truth speaker, the warrior, the gentle- 
man, 

The acknowledged great where great 
men sat, 

Statesman noble, father kind, and hus- 
band 

Gentle; of vice the foe, and virtue's 
friend, 

And of his seven stalwart sons, this 
stately 

Youth alone remains, wiped out by 
treachery 

In one fell stroke, and at the hands of 
traitors 

Fell. Yet intriguing stopped not here. 

I, too, was implicated with Aaron 

And Lord Huntley mixed into one 
strange 

And mythical offense, I to Aaron went 

And with great Aaron I surrendered; 

And still with Aaron I was hurled 
behind 

The dungeon walls; we, innocent, had 
naught 

To fear, but there, 'pon hearing of our 
father's 

And our brothers' massacre, (we being 

Married to Lord Huntley's daughters 
each), 

And learning, too, our 'states were con- 
fiscate, 

And lastly, and 'pon hearing that our 
food 

Was poisoned, Lord Aaron sank upon 
the floor 

Then rose a raving madman, up; and I 

Stole o'er those wasting walls to wan- 
der in 

A foreign land. Who was the base in- 
triguer? 

You only, you — and for these things 
you are 

Responsible. I obey your majesty's 

Command. I will do you sir, no harm. 

[Seizes Moray's hand fiercely 
and throws it from him. 



34 



KING DARNLEY 



| Act IV. 



Queen M. [In tears.} Huntley. 

Hunt. [Staggering about the stage in 

mi suppressed agony.] Time 

past me now returns again, and I 

Am in my father's courtyard where I 

stood 
Upon that fatal morning; six brothers 

are 
About me here, with whom in child- 
hood I have played. 
Our army 's dispersed; we have sur- 
rendered, 
And each we are in conversation held, 
By southern lords, good fellowship pre- 
vails. 
All are convivial. Lord Moray holds 
My brother Gordon's hand, and, high 

in jest, 
Convulses him with story and good 

humors. 
Here orders Moray gave, our hands be 

bound— 
A form, he says, required. We, 
Prisoners of war, go south, there to 
Be liberated— we submit. Our father 
Scarce the while was missed, we think- 
ing him 
At liberty, when suddenly he ghastly 
And in death, was carried in, and 

there 
Whilst horror filled our souls, and as if 
Unwilted by the sight, Lord Moray 

shouted 
To the guard to seize us. Our friends 

were foes, 
And we were forced high up upon the 
scaffold, 



With ropes about our necks; again I 

heard 
Lord Moray's loud ■ commands, there 

followed by 
Our brothers 1 loyal shouts, an instant 

more 
And five brave men were strangled in 

mid-air. 
My trap had failed, and as I thought the 

God 
Had willed it so that I one day might be 
Avenged, and as I gazed into the 

courtyard 
Down, my misted eyes did dimly look 
Upon Lord Gordon, eldest of us all, 
The fierce, the foremost and the brave, 

lie prostrate 
'Pon a scaffold, the headman's axe 

above 
Him towering there; then 'pon the 

balcony, 
So cheerily appeared mv mother, with 
Our sovereign, — Lord Moray there ac- 
companied. 
The headman's axe upon my brother's 

neck 
Descended — mother fell — I saw no 

more. 
Queen M. Huntley! Huntley! for- 
give; brave, injured Huntley! 
Both. Huntley! 
Hunt. Oh, awful moment 

greater than 
My soul. I will do you, sir, no harm. 
[Kneeling before the queen and ex- 
tending his hand behind him to 
Moray, who seizes it abruptly. 



ACT IV. 



Scene I. A Court. 

Moray upon stage di&guisedas Hep- 
burn. In the baclcground Lord 
Bothwell upon his knees before 
the quet n. 

Mor. They say of him that he be- 
lieves in dreams; 
Superstitious, as it seems; I must 
Prevail on him through medium of his 

dreams. 
Her eyes do put to sleep vitality, 
And dreams the brain to infant want, 
a charm, 



A trance, that weakens lust itself and 

leaves 
Scot's fiercest son, Lord Bothwell, 

here 
To nightly stare the moon from coun- 
tenance, 
Gods that draw loyalty from very earth, 
And melt stone in submission; if they 
Be Heaven's zeal, Heaven assume 

them. 
For, thus presumptuous do I aim, to see 
Their limpen powers on my Lord Both- 
well now 
Begun, at no green o't or colic stage, 
And there to him unseal and read, and 
if ripe 



Act IV. J 



KING DARNLEY. 



35 



He be to rottenness to hunk him out, 
And out of his nobility. That done, 
And done in good assurance, by feed- 
ing first 
His soul's ambitions wi' crowns and 

such 
Like dainty things, I'll fill him with 

such hope, 
For she and hate for Darnley, as do 

between 
They three, break in the board of sound 

and bring 
Them stringless, tuneless to the ground. 
[Exit Moray. 
[The queen hands Both well a 
parchment, he presses it to his 
heart, kisses her hand, rises, re- 
tires, kneels again, kisses his 
blade. Exit. 



Scene II. A Front Apartment. 

Bothwell enters reading parch- 
ment. 

Both. Blind — blind — not as a man 

who views 
Not partially, nor at all, but in that 

sort, 
That sees well with my eyes, yet noth- 
ing that 
I look upon distinctly. Fables — 

castles — 
Castles. Read with my sight and rear 

these with 
My sense. Ah, what an anchor there 

is to be found 
In hope, when hope has love to anchor 

on. 
The massive iron suspended down by 

chain, 
Grips to the rock, and holds the great 

ship of 
A man's condition— nay, but my duty, 
I must do my duty, and he that does 

that well, 
No more — has then done all a man 

should do. 
Why should I fear— what fear? Yet in 

my dreams 
Strange things appear that would ap- 
praise me of 
A pending danger. For as I sleep, a 

serpent 
Seems about me wont to coil, and as 
My fancy would have him take shape 

with rattles; 
A kind I've seen in warmer climate, 
Hideous ugly, and its fang reported 
More than others to be fatal. I 



Must be wary — wary, lest some intrigu- 
ing villain, 

Or as fate may have 't, some unlicensed 
act by me, 

Committed, cause me to perish — among 
my servants 

There has lately come a man; one of 

Precious wit and scholarship called 
Hepburn, 

That being too, my family name, Hep- 
burn. 

Smart — smart fellow too he is; quick 

Of understanding, and of motion, 

Tends well to business. I suspicion 
him, 

Ralph Hepburn. 
Moray. Here my noble lord. 

Both. Come forth. 

Enter Moray. 

His hands are soft, and though he 

makes no showing 
Of feigned manners or of speech, yet 

there 's about 
Him that, that looks— esteems the gen- 
tleman. 
Who are you? from whence came you? 

and why here? 
Moray. My lord, I am 

the thing I am, which is 
A goodly reputation in a man. 
I am not honest, but have done no 

crime, 
As veri'bly I do believe, my noble lord, 
No man's strict honest if he will not 

gain 
By it, if by equivocations he 
May win; yet liars I despise, and bring 
Heaven down to witness — a liar, that I 

am 
Not, nor have ever been; for as it is 
With him, that tells a falsehood, he 

must cover 't, 
Watch over it, and if found out in it, 
You would not then, believe truth if 

told by him. 
The simple story that my life affords 
Is this: Born of humble parentage, 
Prone wiser to become, I left my early 
Home, a shepard's habit, if it please 
You sir, upon the hills of Abei'deen. 
My father to Lord Ochiltree was most 
Familiar known— he called at intervals. 
My mother being beautiful, his grace 
Was pleased to chat with her, the while 

to dance 
Me on his knee; but now a strange 

cognizance 
Here comes in, and, though you shall 

deny me. 
And think of it as fable, superstitious 
And light laughing matter, yet its ex- 
istence 



36 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act TV. 



I esteem, as women prize their virtue. 
'Tis this, my lord, if you will pardon 

me, 
And thus with me it first began upon: 
A strange, prophetic dream. One night 

as on 
My cot I lay, the vision came - a horse, 
A horse in high career and mostly 
Unconstrained by one a squire that 

rode 
On it, ran past me in a street — a street, 
I knew it well and often had been on it, 
It being close where sheep were mark 

eted. 
The beast, a maddened beast, foaming 

and fast flying— 
Furious, and as it would appear, 
Sighting ahead, to it some new strange 

obstacle 
That newly frightened it, swung swiftly 

round; 
And threw its rider heavily upon the 

pavement, 
And at the instant, and even as he came 
In contact with the earth, I felt the 

shock. 
Intense the pain, and that in my side 
My bones wex-e broken. Here I awoke 

and thought 
It all a dream, although so much im 

pressed 
With it, with thinking it reality, 
That first I felt my hand about my side 
And breast, then smiling at my weak- 
ness, fell 
To sleep again. Day came, it being 

market 
Day, with dogs and flocks I to the town 
Resorted, little thinking of my strange 
Predestiny; but suddenly, and as 
We bore upon the spot where, in the 

dream, 
The night before I stood, behold a steed 
In frightful and most strained exertion, 
Foaming like a torrent, and rode as I 
Had seen him rode, raced in the street 

and up 
The town where I had seen them' go. 

The horse 
The same, the man as even he did look, 
Whiskers sandy, pallor of countenance, 
With eyes outstarting from their sock- 
ets; all 
Was very likeness even to panting of 
The steed that running, reeled and 

dashed his rider 
To the pavement — Men went to him, 

and one, 
A doctor, coming up, pronounced him 

" bruised." 
I peering on exclaimed, "his ribs are 

broken." 



'Vestigation thereupon was made, 

And what I said was found to be ac- 
cordingly, 

Though 't passed lightly 'pon the minds 
of all, 

As men are apt to think, " a boy has 
spoken," 

And if what he says have meaning 'twas 
strangely 

Guessed about. Since have I wandered, 
sir, from place 

To place (as like in the dark, or blind of 
sight, 

The best of men go stumbling on), yet 
guided 

By this strange and unseen hand. Last 
night, 

Or in this early morn, a lion stood 

Before me, an angry lion vehement in 

His rage, and I most" frightfully un- 
armed, 

Was at his mercy. Here am I so and do 

Your will on me, and if you will devour 

This carcass, you can but liberate the 
soul 

Imprisoned here. 

Both. Go— return if I 

Will call for you. 

[ Exit Moray. 
It is strange — 
strange— very strange. 

If it is true. [Exit Bothwell. 

Re-enter Moray. 

Mor. Ah! imperfect skull 

Of any infant. I have touched the spot 

Where he is tender. How much the 
sculp turer 

Is every man ; each chisels out his shape; 

Yet where is to be found the seam- 
less block 

Or perfect workmanship? He now es- 
teems me. 

In his immoderate — superstitious soul. 

He dreams, as all have dreams, and I 
have dreamed — 

Nay, but 'tis said of him, he frightens 
men. 

Things happen as he prophesies; 't may 
be 

The devil 's with him not with me. 
He comes. | Exit Moray. 

Re-enter Bothwell. 
Both. Such things have 

been, 'tis true, aud that which is. 
Is what has been, and what has been is 

what 
Is still to be. 'Twas rio uncommon 

thing ' 
'Mong the ancients, 'tis not improbable 
To-day. Indeed, myself I have been 

guided 



Act IV. J 



KING DAEXLEY. 



37 



But imperfectly by it, and now 

That weighty matters I have here, who 

knows 
But this fair medium in a man is sent 
As my interpreter. T is ordained 
Of me, by all my tribe, that I shall yet 
Hold sway and vast responsibility 
Imbibe. .Ralph Hepburn, come forth! 

Re-enter Moray. 

Within this fortnight 
Prophesy the coming of some strange 
Unheard event, and tell it me. 

Mor. It shall 

be done. 
[Moray awe-stricken, retires. Both- 
well follows him in triumph. 
Curtain. 



Scene III. Camp in the Highlands. 

Discovered, Earl Huntley, Lords 
Earley, Lindsay and others. 

Lord Earley. All hail! hail to the 
prince, the babe we make 
This pilgrimage to see, the infant born 
To Mary Stuart that one day will be 

James, 
Of Scotland, Sixth. All hail ! 

Lord Lindsay. A fair 

Child by my truth if like the father or 
The mother it will look. 

L. Ear. Good, my lord, 

And may 't have its mother's virtues, 

and 
Its fathers failings — none of them. 

L. Lind. Well, 

Now by the fault, but that is wishing 

well. 
Ha! ha! For that would make a man 
of him. 
Earl Huntley. Gentlemen, hail! hail 
to mother queen 
And future sovereign; and if the God 
Send down a thunderbolt to punish 

crime, 
May it descend on him, that would have 

end, 
The reign of Stuart. 
Lord*. Huntley, Hunt- 

ley, hail! All hail! 
Lord Ear. And by St. 

Paul, our coming will 
Be sweet surprise to them. Xot even 

Bothwell 
Knows — knows he, my lord. 
E. Hunt. By all 

means, not. 
To him no inkling 's gone from me 
but to 



The contrary; and, gentlemen, may God 
Excuse my very action, for I 
Did hint when last I wrote to him that I 
Was elsewhere going at this time. 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. A squire 

That rode this way was thrown from off 

his horse. 
We find him dazed and holding by the 

bridle 
Rein, desirous that we bring him in 
To you. 
E.Hunt. Do so. [Exit Servant. 

It is a badly omen, 
Gentlemen. 

L. Ear. I did not know you so 
Believed in omenry, my lord. 

E. Hunt. Since one 

Thing that has happened, I have be- 
lieved 
In anything. [Moray brought in. 

Mor. [Incoherently.] All hail! — 

my bones are broken- 
Half a dozen. Gentlemen, I greet you, 
My head and heart and all of me, 

oh! oh! 
Gentlemen, go you to Fife? I know 
A doctor, skilled in surgery, I need. 
E. Hunt. We go to Edinburgh and 
shall convey 
You there. 

Mor. You go to Holy rood? 

E. Hunt. Why ask 

you that? 
Mor. They are aware, sir, 

of your coming. 
E. Hunt. This cannot be, 

our visit, sir, is secret. 
Who told you this? 
Mor. Told — what — say you? 

E. Hunt. Did you 

Not say but now 

Mor. I know not what 

I said. 
[Aside.] Thus will I dream the thing I 

see. I'll to 
Lord Bothwell and this prophesy. 
Gentlemen, grant me leave 
That I may go apart— and good my 

lords 

[Stares at them and gives « maniac 
yell. Exit running. 
E. Hunt. Make after him. 
L. Ear. He is al- 

ready mounted. 
L. Lind. [Laughing.] He rides toward 

the highlands. 
L. Ear. [Laughing.] See— see how 
now 
He goes, whips his steed and rides with 

heels 
Above his head. 



38 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act IV. 



L.Lind. [Laughing.'] Why, the mad- 
cap doffs his hat 
And strikes with clenched hands at the 
atmosphere. [All laugh. 

E.Hunt. [Thoughtfully^ He is the 
maddest madman I have seen. 



Scene IV. A Room in Holyrood Palace. 
Enter Bothwell. 

Both. Sincere; no doubt of it, high 

gest'ulates 
And most excited rails and vessels that 
Minutely carry blood, rise rushing tor- 
rents 
In his countenance. These are signs 

he 's inspired. 
Intensely and in earnest with what he 

knows 
Is truth or fanaticism broods upon, 
Such looks, they are, who counterfeit; 

but in 
An honest man they are the evidence. 
He says his vision sees approach of men, 
Describes minutely each, a group of 

highland 
Nobles known to me, among whom is 
My brother by my marriage to his sister, 
The valiant Huntley; now Huntley 's 

gone 
In expedition east, and if another 
Look not as Lord Huntley looks, the 

villain 
Lies to me, and if a lie I And 
It told by him he shall be watched, his 

freedom 
Such as mouse enjoys as captive of 
Its enemy. For as it is with tellers 
Of untruths, that man that so offends 
The ear with strange uncredibility 
Lies innocently— pity him; 
But if falsehood will be found and with 

design 
Accompanied, beware — for such men 

are 
As serpents, that shed .their coats and 

have 
About them coils. [Enter servant. 

Servant. A gentleman and 

escort 
That await without-, implore your leis- 
ure. 
Both. The name. 
Serv. A friend; I am 

no further sir, 
Instructed. 

| ('In , ring without. 

Enter Huntley and escort. 
E. Hunt. Hail! gentlemen, hail! hail 



To Bothwell — General — Lion at Arms — 
Lord Warden 

Of the Marches; and I assure you as 

I am a man that should the Bengal 
tiger break 

From bondage loose he shall not pass 
him. 
L. Lind. Good, 

My lord, and should the English uni- 
corn 

Come seething down whilst with the 
tiger you're 

Engaged, call Huntley in, and Scotland 
may 

Enjoy a double victory. 
E. Hunt. Why noble 

Friend, so much astonished? Our com- 
ing 

Does not please you so I fear. 
Both. In that 

You are mistaken, sir, your presence is 

Most heartily revered. Brave Hunt- 
ley, here 's 

My hands; and Lindsay, too, came out. 
Earley, 

I am pleased; gentlemen, delighted 

With you all; believe me, I am happy. 
E. Hunt. Now, and if you will but 
think of this 

A call no more, we would behold the 
prince, 

And later on enjoy you. 
Both. If 't were your 

sweethearts 

You would see I should contend my 
equal 

Right to hold you here; but as the" 
prince 

Our future sovereign you 'd look upon, 

I must excuse you gentlemen, and hope 

Your hasty going will prove a like re- 
turn, 

While here, one thing only I shall re- 
quire 

Of each: You lodge with me, and dine 
with me, 

And nowhere else, if not as guests. 
All Lords. Hail! 

Hail! a highland welcome; hail to Both- 
well. 

[Exeunt all except Bothwell. 
Both, strikes a bell and a ser- 
vant ' nters. 
Both. Send Hepburn here. Make 
haste. [Exit servo n t. 

The hour 's at twelve. 
Since day I've had a guard on him; im- 
mured . 
Him under ground, and if he will lack 
In premises, or differ with the time, 
There still is grounds to habit with a 
doubt, 



Act IV.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



And yet how strange is all, how very, 
Very strange. For, as I noted, Hunt- 
ley's 
Garment here 'tis torn, as by a twig— 
The shred of it he spoke, and graphic he 
Described, as down it hung. 



Enter Moray. 
were you, even now? 



Where 



Mor. Into the cellar, 

sir^ engaged. 
Both. When went 

You there? 

Mor. At day. 

Both. You have been 

about 
The premises since day. 

Mor. Your valet is 

My witness sir I have been there since 
day. 
Both. Who else has seen you there 
That they 
May testify? 
Mor. One a common ser- 

vant. 
Both. His name. 

Mor. MacDonald. 

Both. MacDonald's anything 
That is not commendable in a man 
And nothing that can be respected. 
Mor. Ay my lord. 
Both. MacDonald, 

was he with you? 
Mor. MacDonald was 

about the premises — 
[Aside.] To give me information. 

Both. The talk 

You had with him? What conversa- 
tion held? 
Mor. Your valet is my wit- 

ness sir, I did 
Not speak to him. 

Both. When am I to expect 

The men foretokened in your dream? 

Mor. The men 

Have not they come? The gods are 

liable; 
The time is past, as on the dial of 
My brain the hour was pointed to. 
Both. What hour? 

Mor. The hour of twelve. 
Both. It may 

been twelve at night. 
Mor. Twelve at 

day. The dial I looked upon 
And saw about me daylight in its 

bloom; 
A bird was caroling sweet, I heard him 

sing, 
And round about was clamor of the 

town; 
So vive was all 'twas not a dream. 



Both. Saw you no other thing' 

in sleep? Nothing, 
Noted, but this same, no more? 

Mor. My lord, once 

To fail 's more prudent than a dozen 

failures. 
One falsehood is more wise than forty 

lies. 
If more were seen why mention it. 

My mind 
Is broken in its charm. For, if in space 
Before the window of my soul that looks 
Out in eternity, delusions there 
Be put to counter me, I lay my trun- 
cheon 
Down. 
Both. God bless you, I am charmed 

with you. 
Your men are here and gone, and as 

the heavens 
Throned above this world, trust me. 

For if 
Exists, and veri'bly I b'lieve 't there is 
A thing predestiny; it solves the prob- 
lem 
Of a living God, a soul in man. 
And through your medium, it will come 

things apt 
That will transpire, I am unsensed; my 

reason 
Is no longer— greater 
Than the stars and all these elements 
About infinite space, no longer scoffs 
At night that with its twinkling can- 
opy 
Looks down like dews upon a summer 

morn, 
Each glistening drop, a world, a moon, 

or some 
Stupendous comet body, that as a coal, 
By hand of nature flung 's pitched 

hurling in 
The furnace of the sun. Predestiny — 
That prove to me — and as insect that 

beholds 
A ponderous work of man, or cricket 

that 
Has loudly rasped, I hie me 'neath a 

straw. 
I see by your expression more is on 
Your mind — speak, if more you have 

not at 
The present, as time develops 't make 't 

known to me. 
Henceforth, you lie within my chamber 

and hold 
My inner confidence, at night, at any 
Time, predestiny unveils betore 
You aught, report to me, and if buried 
Under documents of state, or if 
In midnight slumber I will answer you. 
Mor. My lord, a strange and curious 

revelation, 



40 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act IV. 



I do not understand came with the 
other, 

Alter it— but as I think 

It was not real any way. 
Both. Speak on. 

Mor. Have you got royal blood into 
your veins 

By which 'tis possible you may ascend 

Up to a throne? 
Both. Speak on the thing 

revealed 

To you. 
Mor. The scene approached, such 
gayety, 

The like before I never looked upon; 

I thought it fantasy, so strange to me 

And so impossible, the palace and 

Its furnishing, the carpets, the hang- 
ings aud 

The arts upon the walls; and you were 
there, and seated 

High 'pon edifice of state, a crown 

Was poised upon your brow and in 
your hands 

A golden sceptre, toyed it with your 
fingers, 

And still beside you there a goddess 
was, 

One reason could behold and worship 
her, 

For more than Venus she was fair. 
Forehead 

High, and marble, crowned with wavy 
locks 

O' yellow-brown, — the gold of Ophir, 
and 

The wine; texture fine, fine tempera- 
ment, 

Nose, Grecian, cheeks oval'd so and 
tapering 

Down to chin, wi' lips that curved and 
curved 

Again, and as I looked at her, 

Her eyes enormous, dark, and luminous, 

( iivw changeable, from black to brown, 
from brown 

To blue, then glowed with ambers of 
the dew, 

And I stood by into- a robe most gor- 
geous 

Of apparel, a sword was dangling at 

My thigh, and I in careless attitude, 

And something seemed to say 't, as now 
my mind ■ 

Recalls the dream — I was an Earl. 
Both. Go! 

[ Exit Moray. 

Queen Mary — 's — court; an earl — most 
likely thing 

That I should do for him.— My dreams 
are money, 

Counted coin, and with it currency un- 
told. 



I shall have joy, 't will prove but so, 
And with it heaviness of woe. 



Scene V. The Court of Mary. 
.1 concourse of nobles present. 

Mar //. Oh, if my spirit were but bold 

to night 
As lions when in combat closed, as 

rivers 
Fearless where their currents meet, or 

ocean 
Reckless where its torrent goes — calm 
As moonlight 'pon the mountain 

scene — still 
Bleak and cold, I could behold him, 

father 
Of my child, him who has wronged me 

deep. 
More deep than ever dispraised love has 

grottoed 
In a giver's heart, how mocking, mon- 
strous, 
Terrible, contemptible — a Catholic 

queen, what! I 
Immodest with the Pope's detective, I 
Knowing him; I queenly all my days. 
The strumpet of a slave, my lord in 

youth 
So handsome and so capable, loathes me 
With deformity — God have mercy. 
Yet that poor dog, if Heaven spare the 

mark, 
Were more the man than ever was my 

lord. 
I of belief that God stands by and looks 
At me, yet swear by God, I'm innocent. 
Why care I for the scoff of men, I, who 
Have lived a widow's life here in this 

realm, 
Watched by intriguers in the midnight 

of 
My sleep; yet on the horizon of all 
Those years there is no cloud— if so, 

let it 
Be pointed at. [The lords applaud. 

Then, as they say of it, I fell 
Most deep in love-ay— 'twas love, the 

term 
Will serve, for otherwise we could not 

well 
Explain why I put by, as Csesar once 
Put by, a crown to wed a penniless 
And puppet lord. (Is this the evidence 
Of woman's love?) I loved him and I 

knew 
Not why— yet loved him fond, and lov- 
ing him, 
I married him. — grew prolific and — 
Became voluptuous. Oh how mad, how 

shocking, 



Act IV.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



41 



Shocking, mad he was, for he was jeal- 
ous, 

And. if madmen are not jealous given, 

The jealous man is but the civil mad- 
man. 

Lord Erskine. The prince. [Aside. 

[Enter Maid with tht prince. Xoble- 
iin/i rise whih tfu Maid kneels 
and presents the child to the queen. 

Mary. Yet, when in this infant's face 

I look, 
What pity it inspires, how like Darnley. 
Mama's sweetheart — this cunning 

mouth and smiling 
Face and eyes, and so impulsive, too. 

Enter Darnley; approaches tht Urn 
of noblemen; they regard him with 
no sign of recognition. Darnley 
staggers to the center of the stage. 
Mary hesitates, goes t<> him "-it// 
the <hihl. 

Mar;/. My lord. 

Argyle. [Aside.] He will deny 'tis his. 
Ear ley. [Aside.] 'Twill break 
Her "heart if he will say 't. 
Damlei/. [With uplifted hands.] As 
the God lives 
This is my child. 

[As he steps hark to retire Darnley 
and Mary's eyes meet ; Mary sobs 
aloud. Exit Darnley. 



Scene VI. 



Another Room in the 
Palace. 



Both. You say your mind foreshows 

to you, she loves 

Me well. 
Mor. Indeed. 

Both. And too, implies it so, 

She loves not Darnley. 
Mor. And that is 

plainly seen 
About in nature; a woman that loves 

two 
Loves none, and loves never at all. 

She is 
Deceived and so deceives herself that 

puts 
Partitions in her heart. Love 's a thing 
Strange fashioned after, and much mis- 
taken worn. 
Infatuation is its cut; ambition 
Is oft to 't construed, and too. a ring, 
A trinket has for it been mistaken; thus 
Our natures make ridiculous us as 

jewels 



We imitate with paste and glass; but 

that 
That's love should never find a fault; 

should but one 
And selfish be of one; one that before 
The eyes we idolize and feel content 
To look upon, approve, reverence, and 
Respect. And so it is with Darnley and 
The queen — to love 's so much impos- 
sible. 
She wise and witty, and he 's a devilish 

fool 
And never wise. 

Both. Ay, but as you say 

You know him, is he not a learned man? 

Mor. Learned in some things, most 

strangely learned. 
In others not. 

Speak to him of philosophy, and he 
Will answer you "go to;"' but should 

you say 
To him, '• a terrier can best a brash," 
He will sit him down straightway by 

hours to talk 
It out of you, with argument and ways 

and means 
That end not. 

Both. You noted as I held 

With her some talk. Saw you anything, 

a hint 
Betrayed, by gesture, look or action, 

any- 
Thing that would hinge a hope on it. 

. Her eyes, 
I look in them and do not see more of 

her, 
But seem enchant to gaze in them. Her 

jewels 
Are none of them rare as these; they 

luster, glow, 
And gleams rise up o'ervvhelming me, 

and I 
Am lost in them, in strange enchanted 

space 
Unfathomed and uncomprehendable, 
And seeming somehow so prevailed 

upon 
By some sweet, softened sense, I look 
Them farther in, and thereupon, all 

nature 
Animal is from me gone, and weakness 
And such sweetness comes, that would 

to God 
It ever could prevail, for I am but 
A child again, a babe that would be 

cooed 
Over, and rocked a cradle in— and 

kissed. 
No longer Bothwell; no longer warrior; 
No longer chief that would go in a lion's 
Den. 

Mor. How pure her love for you, to so 
Enfeeble you, to so prevail over 



42 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act IV. 



The animal per cent, of your great 
nature, 

Such evidence is mostly rare. 
Both. Ay, 

But as I had you present to observe, 

Have you not something noted, betray- 
ing as if 

Me she loves, or cares for Darnley not? 

Something you will speak about. 
Mor. Speak 

To thee, what her eyes do thee speak 
at glance. 

Would'st thou ask me, sparrow, to an 
ocean- flight, 

Or to pluck yon nipple star from na- 
ture's breast. 

Ah shame of thee, fair lord to waste 
me at 

Such inconvenience; 'twere easier 
measured, 

Nature's sun than Mary's love. Ha! ha! 

Thy rose in sooth, thee, bud of fortune, 
from 

Her thorn would'st thou her pluck 
unto thy heart, 

A crown. A queen, thee a monarch, 
her thorn, 

So prominent that doth such chal- 
lenge. Will 

My lord speak pardon to fair spoken 
terms? 

He must be culled. 

Both. How culled to liberty? 

Mor. Xay faith to hell— methinks a 
coward could not 

To heaven go. 

Both. I know the thing you mean. 
But it must 

Be respectable done. Think you could 

Not so prevail on him as to provoke 

Him to do combat for his life? 

Mor. Phew! 

He would not combat with a cat for fear 

Of losing it — a minion coward as ever 

You have dreamed about. 
Both. Then what's 

your plot? 
Mor. I've devilish poor 

brains for such mtriguin' ' 

Business; but what think you of the 
way? 
Both. It must be honorable — 

done honorable. 

I would blood shed; and oft these hands 
have shed it, 

And think it virtue, too, if in defense 

Of houor spilled, or for one's coun- 
try, if 

It flow. Mark you. with this blade and 
steady 

Arm in battle I've closed-with fifty odds, 

And fought them to retreat, whilst 
wounded treacherous 



In my back, and blood ran rapid from 
My veins— my honor's weak— I would 

kill any 
Coward, my conscience would permit 

of that, 
But my great name must not be tar- 
nished with 
The deed. I brook not at it, blood, but 

at 
The spot of it brook. 

Mor. Exactly, and that is 

The very reason why it should be 

avoided — 
The exposure. That whore sir, is a 

virgin still; 
That revelling keeps it hid, and marries 

well. 
Ay, I've seen't too, the better for it. 

Concealment, 
That is it; concealment is the virtue 
We preserve, the only virtue left 
The devil sir, for if preserve we fair 
Concealment, then, our broken char- 
acters 
Do not shock the grace of God in other 

men. 
The deed, your hands will not be soiled 

with it. 
Suppose the way: you tell the queen 

Lord Darnley 
Has unsaid himself again; say he 
Denies the prince, her child, and speaks 

of her 
She was a wanton; propose his removal 
From the realm, by act of parliament 
Or otherwise, and if approved of by 

silence even 
Make 't consent to summon to appear 
Before her, gentlemen of Scotland, 

those 
Powerful and most prominent. They, 

hating 
Him, as you say, will assist you. Have 

instituted 
Previously a bond, and have them to 
Subscribe their hand to it solemnly 

and each, 
To remove Lord Darnley — no more, 

thus 
With the joint consent of queen and 

parliament, 
We may remove him — from' the coun- 
try. 
Both. A rare idea ex* 

ceeding 
Excellent. It something differs with 
The truth; but truth it has been, for 

well 'tis known 
Such thing he said; it is an able and 
Praiseworthy plot. I will at once 

about it. 
Keep thou near to me that I may put 
My hand on thee at any time; thy wit 



Act V.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



43 



Is much to be commended: I shall need 
Thee constantly about me, — meantime, 

adieu. 
Mor. And to thee a due return 

my Lord Both well. [Exit Both. 
With due respect to thy condition good 
Friend Moray. Does he think brains 

banks, that upon them 
He holds checks without deposit; that 

banks 



Do break will prove his worst calamity. 
For when draw he does upon my wit, 
I draw him in and out and in, at much 
Percentage, until his bonds do par 

them to 
My credit, until his honor's check is 

mine 
To barter at a princely market; 
Until his noble life will pay his bloody 

Signature. 



ACT V. 



Scene I. The Castle of Earl Lennox. 

Darnley upon a sick-bed; doctor 
examining him. Present, Count- 
ess of Lennox and other*. 

Countess of Len. Poisoned, the king, 

my son, is poisoned. 
Oh, awful! Awful crimes of men that 

would 
Make hell to cringe and Herod's hands 

look 
White again. 

Doctor. Madam, chilliness, heat, 
Headache, deep-flushed countenance; 

about 
The body feeling of bruised pain, vom- 
iting 
Accompanied; and in the skin red pirn 

pies 
That appear; these first discernible 
Ton wrists and forehead, that spread 

about the body 
And from the palate's visible; hands, 

face 
And features thus obliterated; with 

odor 
So offensive that once felt it never 
Is forgotten, is not of artificial 
Poisoning signs, but of disease. One 
In which our science has hut little skill; 
A malady from which he may or may 
JVot, as the case may be, recover, called 
Ariola, more common known as small- 
pox. 
Countess. Small-pox! [Screaming. 
Darnley. [Latiuhiny louder than she 

screams.] Stoop down, Fortuna, 

goddess, stoop that I 
May kiss the lips that sent me this. 

Live? Why, 
I have pleaded with the elements 
And asked the lightning that it strike 

me. Swam 
Rapids near and walked the precipice 

beside, 



Ta'en fortune at its risk; dared sea and 

tide. 
Brave mother, what 's my years? 
Countess. Twenty. 

Dam. And 

My hair is gray. Life— why — I have 

seen men 
'Steemgold more'n life, yet, dying, they 

would barter 't 
For an hour. Why, they would cling 

to life 
When if out that mass of mangled dead 
Piled by artillery in battle; if 
Uplifted there a quivering hand were 

seen, 
I could have had it mine. Ay, every 

flower't 
Crushed, killed was, I would have been't 

and not 
The flower in bloom. Sweet, sweet 

Fortuna, loved 
One of my heart, I knew 't. Thine eyes, 
Many as the dews, could not have 

'scaped me longer 
With a tear. One thing, before these 

eyes 
Will close or lips may seal upon my 

secrets. 
Haste to her majesty, this circumstance 
Impart; but call me not her lord. Say 
That one a dying man thus witnessed, 

and 
Before the God do swear 't, she "s inno- 
cent. 
And say't, too, the foul distemper of 
His heart that touched her near, is 

broken out 
In blotches 'pon his face -my name — 

no more. 

[Exit P<i[t< . 

Brave mother 
I'm content be thou wise; for though 

you miss me, 
My face, my company; we part, again 
To meet in Heaven 't may be; perchance 

upon 



11 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act V. 



Another star. And get thee gone, thou 
pill making 

Impostor — prescribe not — no com- 
pound make — 

I'll none of it, mark me. Death! 
death! — 

Thou Romish Pope, thou king of Chris- 
tendom 

Or lover that is now but wed, holds no 

Such favor at thy hands, sweet, fair 
Fort una. 

Goddess, loveliest of them all. 



Scene II. Queen Mary's Parliament. 

Fre$<mt Bothwell, Moray, Leth- 
ington, Rothes, Caithness, 
Earley and Balfour <nnl nth, rs. 

Both. My royal sovereign's worthy 

gentlemen. 
We are your subjects and paramount 

with each is 
Your sovereignty. Your position we 

insure, 
Your honor we uphold, your mandate 

we 
Obey. Why we assemble here 's well j 

known 
To you, to each of us, and much dis- 

cussed; 
But what is wise to do, engages with 
Our pains. I pray you, therefore, hear 

me if 
My words will prove of argument, if 

not 
Desist. For within our souls and with 

our conscience, if 
There is one other rein to guide us, it 
Is reason, that should not be neglected. 

Your 
Position we insure, our arms are set 
Against the ocean, your mandate we 

obey, 
We rise at your command, and woe is to 
The foe who has offended you. For 

Highland - ' 

Catholic aud Lowland Protestant 
Ride ready to your side, as restless 

beadles. 
View the field, and look but for com- 
mand. 
But if your honor we uphold, yet longer 
Suffer to exist here in this realm a 
Slanderer who of you speaks misgiv- 

ingly, 
We do ourselves disgrace, the only 

• course 
That to my reasoning 's plausible, isi 
This bond, by each of us subscribed, 
thereby 



A law becomes, that Darnley shall be 

called 
Upon to leave the land. If he will go, 
Tis well, if disobey, the bond implies — 
Remove him. Discreet Argyle already 

has 
Subscribed. 

Queen, Mary. What frenzied thought 

new occupies 
His brain I am much puzzled with. 

He was 
Of late so penitent, goes clad in crepe, 
And with sad countenance beholds the 

sports 
He once participated. 

Lethington. Your majesty, 
And so I've heard it spoken of, 
And thought of it he was in mourning 

for 
His dead offenses. 

Mary. Ah! subtle Lethington, 

I oft hear you speaking in my dreams. 

Leth. [Aside.] And apart from these 

you hear less logic, 't were 
Better that you dream of Scotland than 

reign 
It actually. 

Mary. What say you cynic of 

The dream. 
Leth. [Aside.] 'Twere best thus said. 

The dream 's a nightmare 
That has Scotland in 't and not her 

queen. [Gentlemen laugh. 

Queen 31. My lord, 

Oft have I heard the dismal pie, 

But ne'er have heard him tune so high 

In tones of laverock. [Lords applaud. 

Leth. Your majesty, 

Your wit puts me before 
My shadow. But believe me in some 

sort, 
Were I lion I would not mouse a cat, 
Neither go where huntsmen are in 

search 
Of me; but, I am, and what I am that be. 
The cause by which we here assemble, 

holds 
Intercourse with each our hearts. 'Tis 

not 
That we, ourselves, need, as you, be 

offended; 
But as the General speaks of it, our 

manhood 
To defend you is so questioned by 
Our enemies, our loves rode down by 

these, 
Our pride unhorsed, and those fair 

qualities 
That most make up the man, are ren- 
dered most 
Uncapable. But for my part and in 
Respect to prudence, in duty to my God,. 
My sovereign, lastly, and in honor of 



Act V.] 



KING DARXLEY. 



45 



My name, I here affix my signature. 
Caithness. I much approve divorce, 
that fortune often 
Joins together those who make life a 

burden. 
Indeed oft I have thought it, that we 

are in 
This world condemned for deeds else • 

where committed. 
My name affixed. [He signs. 

Rothes. Your majesty, for years I've 
sought to show to you 
Some certain proofs of my allegiance, 
And this my opportunity. My name 
I sign. [ He signs. 

Balfour. In name of law, of morals 
and of order 
Affixed is mine. [Signs. 

1st Gent. In duty to our sovereign. 

[Signs. 
2d Gent. We do honor to ourselves. 

[tag mi. 

3d Gent. We subscribe 

'Neath our superior. [Signs. 

Both-well. And now, your 

grace, 

There here remains for you a place, the 

foremost 
Of them all, that you may sign. 

Queen M. Tho' queen, I am but 
woman, and if 'tis wise 
To love, 'tis womanly to idol man 
And to revere his will, to be so wise, 
As he respects, so good as he permits, 
So virtuous as by him is divined, 
To o'erlook his blackest crime, respect 

his slightest 
Wish, to part his hope, his pleasure and 
His pain; and such is woman if Cupid be 
Her tutor, for woman so, is taught by 

love. 
I will not sign. You are my parliament 
And in your power am 1, but I beseech 
Of you, you nothing do to cause a 

burden 
To my heart or bring dishonor down 
Upon you. 

Leth. Your majesty, 'tis those 

complaints 
We treat as your physicians. 
Rothes. My sovereign, protection is 
the will 
Of God. That now anew he slanders 

you 
And that once he has revolted and 

borne to 
lour bosom, up the point of swords 
that he 

Again may do 

Both. My gracious 

Queen, offense of one a fool, 
Has long harrassed you, and though 
unbearable 



To others it has been, most cheerily 
You bore with all I'm told; but when 

he led 
The ruffians to your chamber, I there 

did note 
A change in you; your eyes no longer 

sparkled 
As the dew, but fount's did flow- 
In cessantly; and constantly I feared it 
With seeing you distracted, that your 

sweet nature 
Would dissolve and flow forever from 
Our sight away. What pain, what suf- 
fering, what 
Regret; and those of us that looked 

your 
Sad predicament upon, are not of iron 
Made, but men of sympathies, that 

can 
Not longer suffer that we see it so. 
Here is the pen. 

Leth. Ay, dip't in 

the ink 
For her. 
Both. [Dipping pen.} You sign it here. 
Letlt. Upon this line. 

[Queen Mary unresolved and deeply 
agitated, with nil observing her in 
, arnest silt na . 

Enter Mary Beatox. 

Mary Beaton. Your majesty, a mes- 
senger that ran, 
But now into the courtyard, from Glas- 
gow sent. 
Confusedly asserts to us that young 
Lord Darn ley, son to Countess of 
And Earl Lennox, lies dying: at their 
castle. 

[Mary looks angrily <<t Bothwell. 
Moray reaches under Bothwell's 
arm, secures tin bond, conceals if 
i» /lis breast and <lr<m:s Both. 
hastily away. 

Queen M. Oh! is it accident? 

Mary Beaton. His 

trouble small-pox. 

Gentlemen. Small-pox! 

Queen M. 'Haste! make haste! Send 
to him 
i My physician; he must be hither 

brought, 
Here to the palace, that I may nurse 
him. 

Leth. This is madness. 

Rothes. We '11 not 

permit it. 

Balfour. We must protest against it. 

Leth. Why, his disease is foul con- 
tagious to us all. 



40 



KING DARNLEY. 



| Act V. 



[Queen Mary weeps bitterly, whili 
Moray whispers to Bothwell. 

Botli. My sovereign, your life, your 

beauty, our sweetest joys, we can 

Not so imperil these, in yonder cottage, 

Kirk o' Fields, but place him there that 

hourly 
You may know of his condition. 

Queen M. Then hastily the place pre- 
pare. 
For if not here, I nurse him there. 

[ Exit Queen Mary. Nobles stand 
about in groups. Moray over- 
joyed, puts the bond in Both- 
well's hand. Bothweli, regards 
hi in with frowning dignity. 
Moray chagrined, boxes low, re- 
tires, boxes again <ind exits. 



Scene III. Garden of Holyrood Palace. 

Bothwell upon his knees before the 
Queen. Enter Moray. 

Moray. [Without observing them.] He 
loves her, ay, more than the devil 
ever loved — 

A woman's virtue. She cares for him 
no bit; 

Loves Darnley and it ends, and now 
among 

These things I make my way. The mur- 
der — the murder is 

Resolved upon, forthcoming and or- 
ganic caused 

Queen M. My lord, it was 

your quest, I meet 

You here. What is your pleasure? j 
[Bothwell hesitates. 
Time urging 

Me, great general. I must insist 

Upon a speedy interview. 

Both. Your royal 

And majestic highness, I'm but your 
subject, 

A one who for you has some service 
done, which 

Meantime, set aside. Think of me 
pray you, as of the bird that 's ever 
much 

Admired that does presume to sip its 
honey 

'Mong flowers within a palace premises, 

For I must be presumptuous. How 
.ever. 

If my coming be unseason'd 

Or if out of date, the fault is mine 
There is 



Such consternation here, which 
whether caused 

By sweetness darted from your eyes to 

me 
So ever beautiful, or from your lips 

The words that warbling sound, I can- 
not say. 

But I am strangely obligated 

And in a sort that feels it thus: the life 

A great man lives, the honor he attains, 

The victories achieved by him, the wis- 
dom 

And the wordings handed down, and 
deeds 

And actions by him done that church 
and state 

Comment on, that time, its offspring, 

Looks with reverence at cast of him 

That once did live a man; he, wbile he 

Did live, his body and his property 

Were none too good to lie beneath the 
feet 

Of her, the woman that he loves. 
Loving- 

You thus, believe me, I am prompted, 
and I 

Have thought it, too, you do behold me 
with 

Some right regard. 

Queen M. In sooth, my lord, 

but love 

Is more than what admires. My love 's 
a sea 

That rounds my heart, calm and peace- 
ful with 

Your honor and nobility, but surging 

Tide in love for God and love for Darn- 
ley. [Exit Mary. 
Moray. [Aside.] A pith o' sea that 
wrecks thy bastard ship. 

I must to the rescue. [Advances. 

Buthuell. Curse you, ser- 

pent, your 

Forked tongue hath misled me. 
Moray. Fie, fie, my lord, 

Your sense, apply your sense, you woo 
her wrongly 

But a pace, beware of frankness, as 

It wins not never love, and oft hath 
made 

Two lives unhappy. Cupid 's a lover 

Of the sport that through chance of 
aim, brings down 

His game, unheeding such as comes to 
him. 

Is't not ordained by Heaven sir, that 
she 

Shall be your bride? Would you have 
love before 

"Tis won already honest, if so you would 

Have what you never may obtain. Love 

Equivocates and lovers feign and lie 
outlooks and say 



Act V.] 



KING DARNLEY. 



47 



It is, 'tis not, and so they go and gaze 
With admiration 'pon a fool, and hear 
His nonsense, none of it, and laugh to 

him, 
And give you still a look. Be thou 

wise 
With her, to love indifferent be, but of 
Her person more than ever careful, 

and as 
The mariner marks his course by yon- 
der star, 
Be thou guided by the lustre in 
Her eye. She hates Lord Darnley. 

Both. Ay, but 

The Kirk o' Field, to yonder she hath 

gone 
To him. 

Moray. Ay, and to nurse him, per- 
chance "twill save 
Us powder. Woman 's a secret enemy. 

Have you 
Not seen worst foes 'mong these, kiss 

other. If you 
Will observe them not in looks, in 

actions you 
Will nothing see. She loathes Lord 

Darnley, as 
A crawling viper; he 'twas that struck 

the fangs 
Of doubt into her character, and did 

you not observe 
It in the court —I mentioned it. 'Pon 

hearing 
Of his plight - the look she flashed at 

you — 
Such opportunity, and thereupon 
Prescribed her own physician, and 

orders 
Gave that he be brought here to the 

palace 
That she might nurse him, him foul 

with disease; 
And she so ever careful of complexion; 
And how bitter she did cry with disap- 
pointment 
When foiled in it. 

Both. God speed her action, if by 

The leech 'twere better so if done. 
Mor. Ay, but 

there lies 
The point. She hates him now, and, 

hating him, 
She nurses him; but nursing him, be 

thou "ware, 
New fevers may arise, as 'tis said of 
Sick-beds, they have a hellish bad effect 
At times — that way. The deed your 

hands will not 
Be soiled with it. The Kirk o' Field, 

Lord Darnley 
Lies in upper balcony; the powder, 
The powder we have brought. Convey 
within 



The queen's chamber beneath, a puff 
and all 

To Heaven go, except her majesty, 

And you, my lord who go to Heaven, 
but in 

Another chamber. Did I not see 

It there; but now in her, the true false- 
hood 

That accomp'nies love. She reads thee 
well and knows 

That thou wilt do't. Fool— would you 
that she her implicate? 



Scene IV. House of the Kirk o' Field. 

A garden, a lower and upper apart- 
ment; moonlight. Darnley upon 
the bed in upper apartment, the 

Queen <it his .s/(A . 

Darnley. Ay, make yon window 

bare that 1 again 
May look upon the stars. Indeed, they 

are 
As eyes that look on us from Heaven 

down 
And dews about upon the earth are but 
As tears of joy, for love once broken is 
Again united. 

Mary. Indeed, my lord, and how 

they gazed into 
My chamber nightly, you absent, as if 

to ask why is 
Not Henry there? 
Darnley. How silver's the 

scene; 
Yon moon, how gentle is her gaze; 
How timid, how much unlike the bold- 
ness of 
The sun; the maid en, looking, feels her 

love, 
How similar. 

Mary. And fickle, too, as oft 

A maid may prove. Inconstant moon 

unlike 
The sun, a course complete, a course 

begun, 
Subject to change and unresolved, as 

once 
An oath I swore by it must prove. 
Darnley. How mean you now? 
Mary. In France, in such a night, 
When yet a child, a vow I made, by yon 
Inconstant moon, to one my favorite 

maid, 
(My little playmate then), that I would 

with 
My presence grace her marriage. This 

night she weds 
Darnley. Why then it must 

be so. 



48 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act V. 



Mary. And leave my lord 

Upon a sick-bed? I am a wife more 
worthy. 
Darnley. The vow. God has your 
vow. If by the moon, 
The sun or whatsoever made, 'tis sworn, 
Your s mi's responsive, 't must be ful- 
filled or fortune's 
Fetters are upon you. 

Mary. God help me, is 

Not tliis a right excuse? 

Darnley. Excuse is but 

The garment, with death we leave be- 
hind a one, 
Which as I think, before the high trib- 
unal, 
We none of us are sheltered with. 

Why, I 
Have sworn and still am under oath, 

to covering 
Hide the cause of all my shame, and still 
I'm constant to it, I was imposed upon 
By — a y 5 but I must not say. One 

promise 
Make. 

Mary. That 

Darn. You will go. 

Mary. I will, 

sweet lord, 
But for one moment and return. 

Dam. An hour, 

Make it. an hour, upon me now I feel 
Sleep stealing in. Eleven is 't? At 

twelve 
Return— a kiss— I sleep. If sooner 
You will come I promise much to be 
Offended. [Sleeps. 

[Moray enters garden, reconnoiters 
and retirt s. Mary caresses Darn- 
ley, retires to the door, hesitates 
a inl returns to the bedside. Both- 
well and Moray enter the gar- 
den dragging bags of powder and 
enter lower .chamber. Moray 
draws from his breast a crude 
fust and places it in the powder. 
Mor. The cask '^arranged and I will 
to the watch. 
[ Unseen by Bothavell, lights tin 
fuse and hastens to the door, 
\tands with, one foot upon the 
threshold. 
An inch— an inch -a moment fortune 

hold 
Thy breath, and I'll be king. 
| BOTHWELL (//'scorers tin smoke and 
gHaspS tin fust in alarm OS 

Moray rushes upon" him. 

Moray. Why lit you that? 



Both. Twas not I- 

Moray. Then you 
Did on it step. 

Both. Doth that it light? 

Moray. 'Tis one 

Dispatch. Have a care. This messen- 
ger's damned 
Treacherous. 

[ Taking the fuse and laying it down 
with cure. Meantimt tin Queen, 
who has several times retired to 
the door, descends the outer stair, 
and having passid the oxter door 
of her chamber, meditatively turns 
to enter. Moray and Both, ex- 
tinguish light and hurl tin ///selves 
against the pill \ tin queen 
hesitates, retrace* <r steps mid 
'.'■its. Meantimt ige enters gar- 
den, sees Both, and Mor.. <ind 
ascends tin stair to Darnley' s 
room. 

Both. The gods are willing. 

[Arranging casks. 
Darnley sings: 

Oh, why so love one another; 

The flowers yield their dews to the 

sun, 
But the sun goes down; 
Leaves the flowers at night, 
And love lingers on till the morn. 

Both. He dreams. 

Moray. No, 't is clamor o' 

disease. 
Both. Death hath double plot, 

that we and nature 
Have in him thus contention. 

[Tin i>a<j< attempts to stir 
Dakxlev ,/>'»//, his stupor. 

Darn. [Laughs deliriously.] Ha! ha! 

ha! fill up, fill up, good fellows, up. 

He doth lose much pleasure that does 

it less— 

Moray. In thy lady's chamber 

there 's o 't here to take 

Thee home; rum's road to hell is 

through yon mire, 
'Tis this way but a leap. 
Darnley sings: 

Ho, another let us drink, 

To the bottom let- us sink 

Down, let us down in our glee, 

Poisoning the heart 

As we mentally depart, 

Down to the bottom of our misery. 



Act V. ] 



KING DARNLEY. 



49 



Both. [Lighting fuse.] Come by yon 
elm we will hide and there 
To spy if we be spied. [Exit Both. 

Moray. Fuz— fuz — ye demons as we go 
Your lord doth wait my lord below. 

[Exit Moray. 
Page. [To Darnley.] Treason, my 

lord, treason. 
Damley sings: 

I spoke to the rose 

As it rolled its dewdrop down 

Singing, flower, of the flowers thou 

art fairy; 
But before me she arose 
With eyes that called me loun 
And I cried, all but one, all but 

Mary. 

M ., Queen Mary, 
i ry of my heart; 

Mai^ , Queen Mary, 
Shall we ever part. 

j Music, "Powers of the Forest. " 
Damley sings " Flowers of the Forest." 

" A duel to the border 
Brought our lads in good order. 
England, by stealth, for once wins 

the day, 
Now sighin 1 and moanin' 
O'er every green lomin 
For the flowers of the forest are all wed 
away. 

" Nay mair at the sharin' 

Will lovers be jeerin,' 

Laddies and lassies sae canty and 

gay, 
But ilkie maid since^y 
Lamentin' for her dearie, 
For the flowers of the forest are all wed 
away. 

" Oh, cruel fortune, 

Why thus cruel sportin,' 

Why dost thou vex us poor sons of 

a day. 
I've seen Tweed's silver streams 
Darkened 'neath sunny beams 
And the flowers of the forest all wed 
away." 

Page [Crying bitterly.] Treason. 
Damley. [Laughing deliriously.] 

Merry wives they were and twa 
And they were clashiu* canty, O, 
The ta hus they left it, O, 
And to the others hus they go. 

[Page descends the outside stair, at- 
tempts the lower door ; Moray as- 
sails him and he retreats again 
to Darnley's chamber. 
4 



Page. [Shaking Damley.] Treason , 

treason, my lord, treason. 
Darn. [R sing to sitting pasture.] 

Yon rope untie, the rope. 
Page. What rope, my lord? 
Dam. The rope about 

My knees, untie. Do you not bee a i ope ? 

Page. God help, 
He is unwitted. My lord, I see no rope. 
Dam. Yon rope about my knees 
made fast, untie. 
Fool are you mad? 

[Page makes as if to untie a rope, 
which Darnley assists him in un- 
winding. 

There take it now. 
[Handing him the imaginary coil. 

You are 
A goodly fellow though stupid oft. 

[Sinks upon tin pillow. 
Page. God help, 
Oh! oh! to atoms — we shall be blown to 

atoms. 
[Page makes a second attempt to 
reach the lower chamber and nar- 
rowly, escapes back to Darnley, 
meantime Darnley chants a 
psalm. Darnley falls into a 
profound slumber, page in terri- 
ble fear. Darnley starts in his 
sleep, sobbing (do ad. Is held in 
a sitting posture sings, "Queen 
of my Loving Heart. " 

Oh, how can I leave thee, thou queen 
of my loving heart. 
Thou'rt of earth its sunbeams to 
me, 
Dawn of the morning, stars of the 
twilight, 
Halo of darkness, life, love, lib- 
erty. 

The laverock whose trill 
In the morning so shrill 
Is met by an arrow mischievous of 

fate. 
The dame and her chipper 
Are claimed by the viper 
Who smother their cries in the coils 

of his hate. [Chorus. 

The roe in despair 
From his dew spangled lair 
Is staid by the lancer who matches 
his flight; 
The doe and her fondling 
The huntsman are hounding, 
To tear them asunder in fiendish 
delight. 



50 



KING DARNLEY. 



[Act V. 



Oh, bow can 1 leave thee, thou queen 
of my loving heart. 
Thou'rt of earth its sunbeams to 
me, 
Dawn of the morning, stars of the 
twilight. 
Halo of darkness, life, love, lib- 
erty. 

Page. \I» subdued tone.] Treason, 

treason, treason. 
Darn. [Awaking from his delirium.] 
What comes? what? hark! 
This day hath filled with damning 

sounds, with demon 
Notes of hellish discord. 

Page. Treason, my lord, 

Treason. 

Darn. Treason, how treason? 
Page. With powder — 
With powder. Lord Bothwell and ac- 
complice are 
Below. Come with me, oh, or we are 

blown 
To atoms. 

Darn. Has Mary Stuart done this. 
Oh, thou 
Iron-clad disappointment, from out thy 

cannon 
Raking, my soul a battered ship doth 

hole 
To sinking. 

I Page assists him to window; page 
leaps down, followed by Darnley, 
who foils heavily. 

Enter Bothwell and Moray with 
drawn swords. Page runs out, 
Moray pursuing him. 

Darn. Hold, noble foe, a par, a par; 

This would be coward of deeds; gie— me 

a blade. 

Both. [Dropping his sword.] Oh God, 

my God, I must, it must, and too, 

Must leave no mark on him. Die, die, 

brave youth, . , 

If death hath power to do so damned a 
deed. 

[Strangles him. In meditation. 
Crime is criminal when bathed in gore, 
But hell could scarce take 't in this way. 

Enter Moray at opposite side, 
running. 

Caught you 
The fox? 
Moray. Sir Reynard, fleet of foot, 
did me 
Out-run. 
Both. I did dispatch, why trifled you? 



Moray. And prithee did I go pace 
that wondered me, 
Out- ran the wind, for by my scabbards 

they 
Did howl. The page leaped out like 

beagled hare. 
But thy poor invalid could not rise. 

Both. Twas cowardly 
Done. Your man, where does he hide? 

Moray. If had 
I known so much I would have hid his 
tongue. 
Both. Where lost you him? 

Moray. In yonder end. 
Both. Our game 's 

Our mirror. We must him break. Saw 
You others? 

Moray. Methought I heard a sound 
as 1 
Did fairly leap yon elm by, in high 
Pursuit of him; but took 't for Darn- 
ley's cries. 
Cried he for mercy? 

Both. My God, of such 

speak not. 
It doth unman me. Your man— this 

way, his outcry 
Signals wonder that will about us raise 
An army. 

[Moray puts his foot upon 
Darnley's neck. ' 
Moray. Think you him dead? 
Both. Hence, 

you could 
Not that have done had he been living. 

[Exeunt. 

Enter Pagt from opposite side. 

Page. Treason, 
Treason. The king is murdered. 

Bothwell enters running and stabs 
thepage. Enter Moray running^ 
puts his foot on page. 

Moray. Damn thy sight 
That thou didst see. 

[Runs at Bothwell's back. 
Both, turns. 
Both. Hold Hepburn. 

Moray. Another, another. 

[Exit Both, running. 

[Aside.] Damn bad opportunity. 

Ho, gie 

Him chase, he to the castle ran— yet has 

My shaft gone home .to them aright. 

First I had 
Resolved to have Lord Darnley mur- 
dered by 
Lord Bothwell and have 't exposed, and 
now it comes 



Act V.J 



KING DARNLEY. 



51 



To me I must have Bothwell married to 
The queen, which is a devilish strange 

contrivance 
Sure enough; but, if in effect, 'twill 

serve 
My turn — but what will bring about 

the marriage? 
I have in my possession, obtained 
From one a sorcerer, a mixture, one 

rare 
Of virtue, as it works a charm. Mildly, 
Sweetly,, pleasantly, though it weakens 

sense 
Of duty. It shall be administered. 
That done, but for me name, a modest 

woman 
That ever did expose her shame. He 's 

murdered — 
Him — she marries him— and I must pull 
The curtain from the scene. 

[Throws off his disguise, displaying 
the features of Lord Moray, beats 
upon his shield. 

Treason, ho! 



Treason! treason! ho! The king is 

murdered. 
Ho! ho! ho! 

Enter Courtiers in alarm. 

Foul deviltry hath leaped 

Hell's gates and is into our very midst. 

Gentlemen. Treason! ho, treason. 

The queen, she comes, the queen. 

Ho! ho! ho! 

Enter the Queen with Bothwell. 

Both. What caused the loud 

alarm ? 

Gentlemen. Murdered, he is mur- 
dered. 

Queen M. Who's murdered? 

Gentlemen. [Separating.] Darnley. 

Queen M. Oh God! my lord! my God! 

[Swoons a j m n Bothwell's arms; 
poioder explodes with terrific re- 
port. 




